


Darling

by mothermantids



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, F/M, Family Issues, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gun Violence, Hogwarts, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mild Gore, Murder, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 37
Words: 50,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothermantids/pseuds/mothermantids
Summary: Now you know there was a man named George Weasley, and that he saved me, in every way that a person can be saved.Darling, a slowburn friends to lovers GW x OC, tells the story of Ronnie Oxley, a fourth-year transfer with a sinister past. 18+ due to sex, violence, and other triggering themes. Discretion is advised.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character(s), Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Katie Bell/George Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Darling is a slowburn George Weasley x OC fic surrounding Ronnie Oxley, a fourth-year transfer from Ilvermorny who befriends the Weasley twins. The story spans several years at Hogwarts, as Ronnie attempts to move forward despite a violent and brutal past.
> 
> Generally, this fic is not canon. The two most important changes include the war not happening and the aging system for Hogwarts. I've changed the years to span from 15-21 years old. Ronnie, a fourth-year (along with Ginny and the GT), is eighteen years old. Fred and George are nineteen.
> 
> 18+ only for smut, violence, and other triggering themes. Discretion is advised.

Ronnie Oxley sat nervously in the old headmaster’s office, glancing around the room at the massive, lifelike portraits and the jumbled assortment of trinkets and knick-knacks. She crossed one leg over the other, twisting her hands in her lap as she waited for the great wooden door to open. Professor Dumbledore had stepped out for a moment to attend to some other business. She wondered if it had anything to do with her arrival.

Ronnie bit her lip, the dead skin flaking off onto her tongue. She cleared her throat and uttered a small greeting to herself, praying that her voice wouldn’t be scratchy or high-pitched when it came time to address the headmaster. She needed him to see her for what she was: self-assured, determined, and worthy of being admitted to the school. Or, she supposed, what she wanted herself to be.

After a few tantalizing moments, the wooden door of Dumbledore’s office squeaked open, and the elderly wizard hobbled in, taking a seat behind the large mahogany desk. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles, fixing his piercing blue gaze on the girl in front of him. He offered her a kind-hearted smile.

“My apologies for the interruption, Miss Oxley. As headmaster, I often find myself having other business to attend to at the most inconvenient of times.” He winked, and Ronnie smiled weakly, straightening her back. She had a difficult time remaining nervous in the comforting presence of the old man, but she refused to let her guard down so early. She had to be on her best possible behavior.

“Anyways, I understand you’ve put in a transfer for Hogwarts,” he shuffled a few pieces of loose parchment, which Ronnie had previously placed on the desk upon entering the room. His eyes scanned the various notes from behind his spectacles. “Typically, we avoid taking transfer students unless there’s a significant need for the change. That is, to avoid disrupting your magical education of course. And as a fourth-year, I do wonder if a change in your academic setting would be more harmful than beneficial.”

Ronnie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, fighting the urge to pull at the collar of her sweater. She was suddenly feeling far too warm, though she was certain the temperature of the room hadn’t actually changed one bit. She opened her mouth to respond, but Dumbledore stopped her by holding up an old, weathered hand.

“However,” he continued. “As I’ve often said myself, help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. And you, Miss Oxley, are asking.” He smiled, and Ronnie felt the nervousness begin to drain away from her body. She took a deep breath, straightened herself even taller, and returned the smile.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” she replied, grateful that her voice was neither scratchy nor high-pitched. Her left hand darted to brush back the hair that had fallen in front of her face, all the while trying to hide her relief and excitement.

“The term begins September 1,” the headmaster continued. “I have for you a list of the necessary school supplies you’ll need for this year.” He passed her a weathered sheet of parchment, ink etchings comprising the entire length. Dumbledore then rose to his feet, and Ronnie followed. She allowed him to usher her towards the door. “I’ll see you soon then, Miss Oxley.” He offered her one last wink as Ronnie stepped out of the office, the door closing behind her.


	2. A Dreamy Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie meets Luna Lovegood and prepares to start her term at Hogwarts.

The walk back to Hogsmeade was particularly more pleasant than the one to her meeting. Ronnie allowed herself to take her time, observing the trees lining the path, feeling the warmth of the late summer sun on her skin. She had heard countless times from her old headmaster that Hogwarts was not known for taking transfer students, but she was grateful she had tried anyways. She knew she couldn’t have stayed where she was. It simply wasn’t an option.

She pushed open the door to the Hog’s Head Inn, the jingling of the bell filling her ears. Big Jim, the surly barkeep, offered her a curt nod as she entered, before darting his attention back to the glass he was drying. She made her way across the empty pub to the staircase in the back, fumbling with her rusty room key. Unlocking the bedroom, she collapsed onto the dusty bed and let out a gleeful shriek.

Ronnie had heard a lot about Hogwarts, even all the way in the United States. It was known for being one of the best magical academies in the world, ranking higher than Beauxbatons in France and Durmstang in the far north. Her fellow students at the Ilvermorny School for Witchcraft and Wizardry often talked down on Hogwarts, though she knew it was out of jealousy. If only they could see her now.

Reaching into her jacket pocket, Ronnie extracted the list of school supplies Dumbledore had given her. It was fairly similar to the ones she’d received every year at Ilvermorny: potion supplies, parchment, and a handful of textbooks she’d be needing as a fourth-year. Her eyes darted over the list of subjects she’d be able to take; some were familiar, but others, such as Divination, were brand new. She bit back a smile, though she could feel her heart swelling in her chest with excitement.

She had no qualms about being the new girl at school. In fact, she figured nobody would really care in the first place that she had transferred schools in the middle of her academic career. She didn’t fear eating alone or having to awkwardly introduce herself to her new cohorts. The very idea of it was absolutely exciting. She loved meeting people, and Hogwarts offered a whole host of new people to meet.

Ronnie glanced at the dusty clock on the nightstand, notifying her that it was nearly two in the afternoon. She still had time to purchase her school supplies, if she was quick about it. Though she hadn’t spent very much time in Wizarding Britain — being born and raised in the United States offered little cultural knowledge — she had read up on some of the various locations she’d need to visit, including Diagon Alley. With only days to go until the very first day of term, Ronnie decided she’d rather do her shopping earlier as opposed to later. She leaped from the bed, pushing her list back into her jacket pocket, and thundered down the steps to the pub.

Big Jim was still drying glasses when she arrived, but he looked up as she approached the bar. His face was pinched into an ever-present sneer, but Ronnie found him neither intimidating nor harmful. She recognized him for what he was: a man who was tired of his work but kept going to pay the bills.

Ronnie cleared her throat, placing her palms on the wooden surface of the bar. She smiled sweetly.

“Big Jim, I need Floo powder. I’ve got to go to Diagon Alley.”

The barkeep returned the now-dry glass to the shelf behind him and smirked, reaching underneath the bar for a small jar containing green powder. He pushed it towards Ronnie.

“Ol’ Dumbledore let you in then? Good fellow.” 

“Indeed he did,” she took a handful. “Though I would’ve been fucked if he hadn’t. Where would I have gone then? North, maybe. Or east, to France. Urgh,” she feigned a shiver. “Even the thought makes me tremble.”

“Well, good then. Go on, get out of here.” Big Jim waved his towel towards the brick fireplace in the corner of the pub, watching lovingly as Ronnie crossed over towards it. She’d been staying with him at the Hog’s Head since the very beginning of the summer and as his oftentimes only guest, the two had struck up a friendship. He’d be sorry to see her leave, but he felt a small bit of relief in knowing she’d be close by and well-protected.

Ronnie stepped into the fireplace, offering Big Jim one last cheeky smile, before dropping the powder onto her feet and bellowing clearly, “Diagon Alley!”

She materialized moments later in the main room of the Leaky Cauldron, an old-fashioned pub that was considerably more popular than the Hog’s Head. She stepped out of the fireplace and brushed off her clothes, surveying the room around her. In one corner, she noticed a middle-aged witch drinking tea while her newspaper turned its own pages. On the other side of the pub was a large group of redheaded wizards, accompanied by a small boy with brown hair. She figured they must be a family.

Stepping out of the pub and into the light, Ronnie couldn’t help but gasp in amazement at the many magical buildings surrounding her. Diagon Alley was nothing like the wizarding shopping quarters in the United States. Here, the road was lined with shops all advertising different magical products, from bat eyeballs to quills that wrote down exactly what you said out loud. She took a moment to gaze, before composing herself and pulling the list out from her pocket.

The first thing she needed was a new pair of robes. She had plenty, but they were dark blue and burgundy red, whereas Hogwarts expected all of their students to wear plain black. She navigated her way to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

After purchasing a new set of robes, Ronnie crossed off the remaining items on her list. She visited the Apothecary for the various potion ingredients, purchased copies of all the required textbooks, and found herself gazing longingly at a broom model in the window of a Quidditch shop. There was no Quidditch at Ilvermorny, in fact, the sport itself was considerably unpopular in the United States. But Ronnie remembered reading about it in a wizarding book when she was only nine years old, and she found herself completely hooked.

She was just making her way back to the Leaky Cauldron when she bumped into a very blonde witch, knocking the stacks of magazines out of her arms. Ronnie bent down to help her pick them up.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, her eyes darting over the cover. It was a very quirky magazine, entitled The Quibbler, with a photograph of a wizard wearing a very large hat on the front. She smiled at the blonde witch, noticing the same quirkiness in the magazine carrier.

“No worries,” the witch replied. “The dirt is good for the magazine. It helps get rid of the Wonkers.”

Ronnie smiled politely. “Er, what are Wonkers?”

“They’re microscopic creatures, you see,” the witch answered. “Very bad for the eyes. The dirt helps get rid of them. Would you like a copy? My father’s the editor.” She extended a magazine, and Ronnie took it. She scanned the cover for the editor’s name, finding it in the very bottom corner. Xenophilius Lovegood.

“I’m Luna,” she continued with a dreamy voice. “And you are?”

“Oh, um, Ronnie.” Ronnie held out a hand, which Luna did not accept. She wondered for a moment if British wizards didn’t shake hands, but quickly realized it was only Luna who did not.

“Do you go to Hogwarts?” Ronnie noticed that while Luna was looking at her, it appeared as though her gaze was fixed behind her, as if she was transparent.

“I will be. Do you?” Ronnie shifted her weight to snap the girl’s attention back, but Luna kept gazing off into the distance. She smiled.

“Is this your first year? Do you know what House you’ll be sorted into?”

“No, I’m a transfer. Fourth-year,” Ronnie couldn’t help but burn with annoyance at Luna’s comment. Did she really look like she was fifteen years old? Though she supposed the girl was only asking because she hadn’t seen her around before. “I’m not sure about the Houses yet.”

Ronnie was familiar with them. Even if she hadn’t spent some time reading Hogwarts: A History over the summer, she knew how housing systems worked. Ilvermorny had their own. From what she gathered about Hogwarts, the students were separated based on primary personality traits. She remembered reading snippets about Slytherin being notorious for turning out bad wizards, and allowed herself to wonder for a moment if after the events of the past year, she’d be granted a one-way ticket into the snake’s chamber.

“Oh, well,” Luna replied, her eyes shifting to Ronnie’s left side. Ronnie fought the urge to turn around and look over her shoulder; she figured it would be too rude. “I see my father. I must be going. See you at school!” She smiled once more, then pushed past Ronnie and disappeared into the crowd. Ronnie nodded to herself, wondering if all interactions with Hogwarts students would be that strange.


	3. The Sorting Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie is sorted into Gryffindor, where she meets the Weasley twins.

Ronnie spent the first day of the term alternating between reading through her textbooks in her dusty bedroom and playing wizard chess with Big Jim. She was expected that evening at seven o’clock with the rest of the students, but as she was staying so close, she didn’t need to dedicate the entire day to travel. Instead, she took her time packing her trunk, carefully folding her robes and tucking away her wand safely. She allowed herself to take a breath and truly feel the relief of being at a new school.

This was exactly what she had needed: a fresh start. A place where nobody would know her or her family name — she prayed the students at Hogwarts weren’t well-versed in the bloodlines of the Wizarding United States. She wanted a new chance to prove herself, both academically and personally. She wanted to become the person she had always known she could be.

At exactly six-thirty, Ronnie lugged her trunk downstairs, where Big Jim was waiting. He had insisted on escorting her to the grounds, claiming that the walk wasn’t safe for a young girl in the dark. Ronnie had reminded him that she was eighteen years old, but he wouldn’t hear it. So the two set off, a young dark-haired girl with a heavy trunk and a surly barkeep, towards Hogwarts.

As they neared the school, Ronnie caught sight of a fleet of boats gliding across a gigantic lake, led by one of the largest men she had ever seen in her entire life. She made a move to join them, but Big Jim copped her on the shoulder and pushed her towards the Entrance Hall instead, where she caught up with a large group of much older looking students. Big Jim kept a close eye on her, all the while attempting to flag down a middle-aged witch with a pointy hat and a very stern face.

“Professor!” He called, finally attracting her attention. She glided over, her feet hidden underneath a mass of black robes, a pair of wiry spectacles perched upon her nose. She smiled warmly at the barkeep, before turning to Ronnie.

“Miss Oxley, welcome. I’m Professor McGonagall. It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” Ronnie smiled back at her and straightened her jacket. She looked nervously at the rest of the crowd, and realized she hadn’t thought to wear her robes. Instead, she was wearing a very tattered leather jacket and her comfiest pair of leggings. She shot Big Jim a nasty look for not telling her to change.

“All good, Minerva?” Big Jim asked, placing a hand protectively on Ronnie’s shoulder. “You take good care of this one, alright?”

“She’ll be just fine, Jim.” McGonagall turned her back slightly to allow Big Jim to bid his goodbyes. He pulled Ronnie into a rough hug, and she sunk into it, realizing just how much she’d miss him. He’d been the closest thing to a father figure she’d ever had in her eighteen years of life, even for such a short amount of time. She giggled as his rough stubble rubbed against her forehead.

“You be good, Ron,” Big Jim muttered. “I’m not giving you a place to stay if you get kicked out.”

“I’ll be good,” Ronnie rolled her eyes. “I’ll come visit you. Don’t worry.” He gave her one last loving look, before nodding at McGonagall and disappearing out of the hall. Ronnie watched him go, already hoping it wouldn’t be too long before she would get to see him again.

“Right,” McGonagall cleared her throat. “Though you are a fourth-year transfer, you must partake in the Sorting Ceremony, which is reserved for first-year students. It may seem odd, but it’s important that you are sorted correctly. You will be assigned a dorm in the Fourth-Year Wing, don’t worry.” She winked, but it looked forced and unnatural. 

“Thank you,” Ronnie replied politely. “What am I to do?”

“Line up here, behind these first-years,” McGonagall guided her to a hallway just outside two large wooden doors. There was quite a bit of chatter coming from the other side. “You’ll walk in with them, we’ll call your name, and you’ll be sorted. You will be sorted last, after all of the first-years. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ronnie answered, but McGonagall only looked at her with a hint of surprise. She wondered if it was more proper to address her superiors by “Professor” instead.

“Very well, then. First-years, let’s go!”

The big doors opened, revealing a very great hall (Ronnie later learned it was called exactly that), decorated with hundreds of glowing candlesticks. As she entered the room, looking quite a bit older than the rest of her cohorts, she noticed four long tables, each with a banner hanging above. Ronnie figured these belonged to the various houses, and made an effort to avoid eye contact with anyone at the Slytherin table.

She waited patiently for the twenty-something first-years to be sorted, taking the time to observe the Great Hall. A long table was set up at the very front, behind which sat a handful of older wizards and witches Ronnie figured to be the professors. She noticed the very large man from the lake, as well as Dumbledore. The rest, however, were a mystery to her.

Ronnie tried her best to ignore the various glares and whispers at her presence, likely due to the fact that she was taller and looked older than the rest of the first-years. She was thankful when McGonagall rolled up the parchment containing the list of first-year students, and shot her a sly smile.

“Students, before we finish the Sorting Ceremony, we have a transfer student joining us this year. She is a fourth-year from the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in the United States.” McGonagall turned to face Ronnie, who was hoping her cheeks were not as red as they felt. “Veronica Oxley, if you will.”

Following the path she’d watched the various first-years take, Ronnie made her way to the wooden stool and sat down, biting her lip as the Great Hall disappeared before her, replaced by the darkened inside of the old hat. She closed her eyes, and waited.

What is this? A transfer? The voice echoed in her ears. We don’t get many of those. You’re special, I see. But where to put you? Yes, where to put you?

Ronnie didn’t have much of an opinion as to her House, but she did hope she wouldn’t be put in Slytherin. She believed she wouldn’t be able to prove herself if from the beginning she was thought to be a bad witch.

I see you’ve had some trouble. Bad trouble, yes, indeed. What’s that? No, no, you aren’t evil. Considering the way you’ve handled yourself, I think it must be —

“GRYFFINDOR!”

There was a loud thundering of applause as the Great Hall swam back into view. Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief and made her way to the end of the table on the far left. She was situated beside a group of first-years, but for the most part, she had the entire end of the table to herself. She may have been feeling more social if she hadn’t been ravenously hungry.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long, as the table in front of her unfolded an array of delicious dishes: steak-and-kidney pie, roast chicken, buttered carrots and potatoes. She gratefully helped herself to a little bit of everything, and remarked right away that the food at Hogwarts was considerably better than Ilvermorny.

As the feast went on, students began to trail in and out of the Great Hall. Ronnie hadn’t yet gotten her dorm assignment, and she figured she’d need to speak with McGonagall after she finished eating. She had gotten a few looks from some of the first-years, but she hadn’t been able to see any of the older students from her position at the table. They must’ve been sitting all the way on the opposite end.

Ronnie finished her dessert, wiping her mouth with her napkin. She took a last sip of water and prepared to stand up and find McGonagall, when her left side was impeded by a very tall, very ginger boy. She leaned back as he slid onto the bench next to her, a cheeky smile spread out across his face.

“Hi, darling, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Ronnie opened her mouth to answer, but she was interrupted by another voice on her right side. She whipped around only to see an identical very tall, very ginger boy sitting on her other side.

“Mind if we introduce ourselves?” This boy had the same cheeky grin spread across his face. Ronnie laughed.

“Wow, there’s two of you! The ladies must love that.” She continued laughing, the boy on her right growing very red in the face while the boy on her left only winked and smiled even wider. “I’m sorry. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Don’t be sorry, darling. Fred Weasley,” the boy on her left puffed out his chest slightly, and Ronnie had to fight from bursting into laughter again.

“And I’m George Weasley. We’re twins.” The boy on her right had returned to his normal color.

“I can see that,” Ronnie returned.

“And you’re Veronica Oxley.” Fred leaned in closer.

“Actually, it’s Ronnie,” she corrected. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh, don’t mind at all,” Fred replied. “In fact,” he turned to face the other end of the table. “Little brother! We’ve got another Ronnie right here!” He pointed eagerly at the girl sitting next to him. Craning her neck, Ronnie could make out an equally ginger boy rolling his eyes as he continued to shove his dessert into his mouth.

“That’s Ron, our brother. He’s a fourth-year, too.”

“You’re not?” Ronnie asked, her eyes still lingering on the other Ron.

“Fifth,” George replied proudly. “So if you ever need to cheat on your Potions homework, you know where to find us.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Ronnie replied with a smile. She was distracted only by the approaching figure of Professor McGonagall, likely bearing her dorm assignment. The Weasley twins straightened their backs.

“Mr. and Mr. Weasley, I do hope you are not harassing our new student,” McGonagall began. “Miss Oxley, I have your dorm assignment here,” she handed Ronnie a piece of parchment. “I’m sure these, gentlemen, would be happy to escort you.”

Fred immediately jumped to his feet and bowed, offering Ronnie his hand. George took the piece of parchment from her hand, scanning it with his eyes.

“Shall we, then?” Fred asked. Not wanting to leave him waiting, Ronnie stood up and allowed him to take her hand in his, leading her out of the Great Hall.


	4. The New Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie meets her roommate.

Ronnie was thankful to reach her dorm, after a very chatty escort from Fred and George. Her trunk was waiting for her when she arrived, placed neatly at the foot of her four-poster bed. She looked around the small room, taking in the bay window, the wooden writing desk, and the armoire. She noticed a door on the right side that was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, Ronnie found herself in a lavatory.

It was a standard lavatory with two sinks, a shower, and a toilet. Ronnie noticed an identical door across the way, figuring that to be the room of her roommate. She turned to exit the lavatory when the door opened, revealing another very ginger girl, who jumped slightly at Ronnie’s presence.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I was told I was getting a new roommate today, but it slipped my mind.” She crossed through the lavatory, stopping within a few feet of Ronnie. She smiled, reaching out her hand. “Ginny Weasley. I’m a fourth-year, too. You’re Veronica, right?”

Ronnie took the girl’s hand and shook it. “Ronnie,” she corrected. “I prefer it. Always have.” Ginny nodded. “You’re a Weasley? I met your brothers, Fred and George. And Ron, kind of. You’ve got a large family, haven’t you?”

“You only know the half of it,” Ginny laughed. “There’s also Bill and Charlie, and Percy, too, but they’ve all graduated. There’s seven of us, plus Mum and Dad. I’m the only girl.”

“That must be interesting, having so many brothers. Do you ever wish you had a sister?”

“I’ve got many girlfriends here at school,” Ginny replied. “And now I have you! How much closer to a sister can you get?” Ronnie smiled. She couldn’t help but feel grateful for the kindness everyone had shown her thus far. “You’re American!”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Ronnie nodded along. “I am, I was born and raised in the United States. I went to Ilvermorny before.”

“What made you transfer?” Ginny was looking at Ronnie with awe, as if she’d never seen a non-British person before. Ronnie wondered if perhaps this was the first time she was meeting a foreigner.

“Everyone needs a new start every now and then, even Americans,” Ronnie winked. “Though I do need to start unpacking. I’d completely forgotten about my trunk.”

“Oh, let me help!” Ginny eagerly pushed past Ronnie, gazing around at the girl’s room. “It’s the same as mine, of course, same as all the girls in the Fourth-Year Wing. But I’m sure once you put up decorations, it’ll be really cozy!” She plopped down onto Ronnie’s bed, watching eagerly as the dark-haired girl began to remove items from her trunk.

“What’s it like here?” Ronnie asked, vaguely aware of how broad her question was. “Are people nice?”

“Oh, sure!” Ginny responded. “People are really nice, except for the Slytherins. You’ll want to stay away from them.” Ronnie once again silently thanked the Sorting Hat for not putting her in Slytherin. “Well, I’m sure it’s not too different from Ilvermorny. There’s classes, and weekend visits to Hogsmeade, oh, and Quidditch! Do you play?”

“I haven’t played before,” Ronnie replied. “We didn’t have a team at Ilvermorny. But I do love to watch. Do you play?”

“No,” Ginny answered, and Ronnie could sense a hint of dejection. She wondered for a moment if she shouldn’t have asked at all. “Fred and George are on the team, they’re Beaters. Ron wants to try out, but he’s not any good yet. I’m still practicing.”

“I’m sure you’re much better than I’d ever be,” Ronnie laughed. “I don’t even know how to fly.” Ginny bolted upright in the bed, her eyes widening with surprise.

“You don’t know how to fly? How?”

Ronnie shrugged. “I don’t know, they don’t teach us at Ilvermorny. It’s a safety thing, apparently. So I suppose I’ll be considerably behind in flying lessons.”

“Fourth-years don’t take flying lessons, only first-years,” Ginny corrected. “But that’s okay, you’ll pick it up, or we can teach you. Fred and George are really good, they might be willing to help you. Fred will be, at least. He loves dark-haired girls,” she giggled, and Ronnie blushed. “Though I’m sure he’s already been quite cheeky with you.”

“Perhaps a bit,” Ronnie mumbled. She had found Fred’s forwardness quite comical, but she hadn’t been as interested in getting to know him as she had George. He was a bit quieter, a bit tamer. He seemed a lot more like someone Ronnie would befriend. But she was thankful to them both, for introducing themselves to her and being willing to walk her back to the Gryffindor Tower.

“He’s always got his mind on girls,” Ginny continued. “Mum’s always teasing him for it. She told him he wasn’t allowed to bring home any more girlfriends for the holidays, since he always seemed to have a new one by Easter!”

Ronnie laughed alongside the ginger girl. “What about you? Got your eye on anyone in particular?” Ginny blushed, but Ronnie only giggled. “Hey, I don’t know anybody here. If there’s anyone to tell, it’s me.”

“You can’t tell my brothers,” she had lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s best friends with Ron.”

“I won’t say anything, I promise,” Ronnie replied, feigning a lock-and-key motion with her lips. “I don’t even know Ron, but I’m sure I make a better Ronnie than he does.” She winked.

“As a matter of fact, you’re right,” Ginny replied. “Anyways, you’ll meet him soon. He’s in Gryffindor, too. His name is Harry, Harry Potter.”

The name sounded familiar, and Ronnie attempted to jog her memory as quickly as she could. “He’s famous, isn’t he?” She asked. “I’ve heard that name before, but I’m not sure where.”

“Well, he’ll love that you don’t already know him,” Ginny continued. “He’s not a big fan of his fame. But yes, he’s quite well-known. He survived an attack from You-Know-Who.”

That name Ronnie did know. Though Voldemort’s presence was much less of a threat in the United States, her professors still found it pertinent to lectures. She began to remember learning a bit about Harry Potter during a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson in her second year. The boy who lived.

“Well I’m sure it won’t be hard to catch his eye, Ginny. I mean, look at you,” Ronnie motioned towards the girl on her bed. “If I may say so, you’re hot.”

Ginny turned a faint shade of red and burst into laughter. “Thank you, Ronnie, you as well. Though I’m sure it’s far too early to ask you about boys. But don’t worry, I will!”

“Oh, great,” Ronnie replied sarcastically. “I’ll be absolutely looking forward to that.”

“Hey, you never know! Someone could catch your eye, and in a heartbeat, you’re hooked. Trust me, I’ve been pining after Potter since my very first year at Hogwarts. He comes to stay during the summer and for the holidays, usually, but nothing has ever happened. Not once.”

“Boys are clueless,” Ronnie laughed. “He probably just doesn’t realize you’re interested in him. You said it yourself, he’s best friends with your brother. Maybe it’s weird for him, I don’t know.”

“Let’s hope not!” Ginny offered Ronnie an overdramatic wink, and the two girls burst out laughing.


	5. Stargazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Ronnie sneak out after curfew.

The first week of classes was undeniably chaotic. Though the subjects were mainly the same to the ones she took at Ilvermorny, Ronnie found it a bit of a challenge to adjust to Hogwarts. She realized at once that the rest of her class had already spent three years learning from the same professors. She was the new kid on the block, and already she was being asked to prove herself, especially in Potions.

Ronnie had never been particularly bad at Potions, but she found herself trying even harder than normal. The Potions professor, a greasy-haired wizard named Snape, was not entirely pleased with the newest addition to the Gryffindor House, and was not remotely subtle about his feelings. He continuously sent nasty looks to Ronnie, docking her points whenever he could and bumping into her desk, the motion of which often sent her ingredients flying. She had been through a crash course on the points system by Ginny, and couldn’t help but wince anytime Snape marked her House down. She didn’t want to be the reason Gryffindor fell behind.

There was certainly one thing she was grateful for, and that was the help of Fred and George, who had taken an interest in Ronnie since the Sorting Ceremony. She’d sit in the Common Room after class, working diligently away on her homework, while Fred and George alternated between games of Exploding Snap with another Gryffindor boy, Lee Jordan. When one wasn’t playing the game, he was assisting Ronnie with her assignments.

She thought it was a little over the top at first, she’d always been a good student and didn’t particularly need their help. But the ginger twins insisted every evening, and she didn’t have it in her heart to tell them otherwise. Besides, she was grateful for their friendship. While she spent a lot of downtime with Ginny in their dormitory, she hadn’t clicked particularly with Ginny’s friends: her brother Ron, Harry, and a curly-haired girl called Hermione. Ronnie liked them all plenty, but she sensed the group was already a bit of an elite club. Not wanting to intrude, she mainly kept to Fred and George.

This particular evening, she was working away on an essay for Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy instructor. She’d never taken an official course on Astronomy — Ilvermorny didn’t offer any — but she’d spent a fair amount of time stargazing on the grounds after curfew. It was one of the only things she missed about her old school.

George reclined in the burgundy plush armchair across from her, his hands clasped behind his head, his feet propped up on the table. Ronnie continuously swatted his sneakers away from her drying parchment, which George found entirely comical. He wasn’t being much help; rather, he was narrating an ongoing commentary of the match of wizarding chess Fred and Lee were playing at the next table.

“Fred just moved his rook to B4. Doesn’t look like that was such a good idea,” George’s mumbling made it unusually difficult for Ronnie to focus, despite normally being quite good at drowning out background noise. She crumpled up a spare piece of parchment into a ball and tossed it at the boy, hitting him square on his nose.

“Bloody hell, Ronnie! What was that for?”

“Shut it, Weasley,” Ronnie sneered. “I’m trying to work on this essay. Thought you said you’d help me.”

“I am helping you,” George retorted, swinging his legs off of the table and sitting up in his chair. He leaned over the table, his eyes surveying the snippets of writing Ronnie had already completed.

“You’re not,” Ronnie shot back. “Unless you can tell me the various names of each and every one of Jupiter’s moons, you’re not doing anything but distracting me.”

She fumbled through her notes, trying to remember if she’d written down anything about Jupiter. She knew the girl called Hermione likely had the answer; she was always raising her hand in class. But Ronnie felt too awkward to ask her, even though she was sitting only a few chairs away.

“Well, you’d better hurry up. It’s getting late.” George yawned dramatically. “And we’ve got Quidditch practice tomorrow.”

“No way! You’re not going anywhere until I finish. You said you’d help me.”

George rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll wait.” But without her notes, Ronnie found her essay practically impossible. She watched as the Common Room slowly emptied, until she and George were the only students remaining. He shot her an annoyed look.

“Are you almost done?” Ronnie met his gaze, shaking her head no. She glanced out the large window, taking in the inky blue of the night sky. It reminded her far too much of home. Suddenly, she had an idea.

“Come on,” she mumbled, getting to her feet and grabbing her discarded robes from the back of her armchair. She tossed George his. “Put these on, it’s cold outside.”

“Why are we going outside?” He caught the robes and slipped his arms inside. “Naughty Ronnie, it’s past curfew.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Don’t care about that,” she murmured. “Come on, follow me. And be quiet.”

George obeyed, and the two slipped out of the Common Room, padding softly down the stairs towards the Entrance Hall. Ronnie pushed open one of the wooden doors just wide enough to allow them to slip out, gently shutting it behind her. She traipsed through the courtyard, stopping atop the grassy hill just outside the Quidditch pitch. She took a seat on the grass.

“You brought me all the way out here to sit?” George asked, taking a seat next to her. “Could’ve done that inside, you know, where it’s warm.”

Ronnie reclined, resting her head on the soft grass beneath her. Though it was September, the night was particularly warm and dry, for which Ronnie was grateful. She gazed up at the cloudless sky, the various constellations and planets gazing back at her.

“Look at that.” She reached up and grabbed the back of George’s robes, forcing him into a lying position. He followed her gaze into the sky.

“It’s lovely,” he returned. “Not sure it’ll help with your essay, but beautiful all the same.”

“I used to do this a lot at Ilvermorny,” Ronnie replied. “I’d sneak out onto the grounds once everyone had gone to sleep. I’d stay out there for hours. I like the stars. They’re a constant. It’s comforting.”

“Yeah,” George turned his head to the side to face Ronnie, but she kept her gaze on the sky. He took a moment to survey her features, memorizing the exact curve of her jawbone, the way her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. The look in her eye as she surveyed the heavens above her.

He allowed a moment of silence to pass, before the question rolled off his tongue. “Why did you decide to transfer? I don’t remember you saying anything about it.”

Ronnie rolled her head to the side, making eye contact with the ginger boy. She smiled. “Fresh starts are good, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” he replied. “It’s a pretty big move, don’t you think? Between countries? What do your parents think about it?”

Ronnie bit her lip, returning her gaze to the sky. She swallowed, suddenly finding her throat to be far too scratchy for her comfort. “They’re fine with it,” she replied, another weak smile finding its way to her lips. “They just want me to be happy.”

“I think you will be. Happy, that is. Happy here.”

She turned back to face George, their eyes meeting. She was thankful for his company.

“I think so, too.”


	6. Quidditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

September dwindled away, and soon the cold of October descended over the grounds. Ronnie was improving in her classes; she had spent the rest of her first month observing Snape’s behavior, and learning how best to avoid a conflict with him. She managed to scrape a passing grade, which might have bothered her normally. But she resigned to the fact that she couldn’t possibly succeed in everything, and wondered if perhaps Potions wasn’t meant for her.

The Quidditch season was in full swing, and Fred and George spent quite a bit of their time practicing. The team captain, a tall girl called Angelina Johnson, was rather particular about getting enough hours in between games. Each time Ronnie saw her, she was wound incredibly tightly.

Ronnie often watched practices with awe, trying her best to ignore the jealousy that crept into her bones watching her friends zip through the sky, dodging Bludgers and scoring goals. She loved the games more than anything, and was counting down the days until the next match on Friday, against Slytherin.

She hadn’t spent a lot of time with the Slytherins, at least not enough to care about them in the slightest. She knew of a very blonde, very stuck-up boy named Malfoy and his cronies, but only due to Ginny’s constant bitching. Therefore, she held no personal vendetta against the green team as she climbed her way into the spectator’s stands that Friday, unlike Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, who grumbled the entire way to their seats about Malfoy’s lack of sportsmanship.

“Harry will beat him, just like he does every time,” Ron grumbled, taking his seat between Ginny and Hermione. Ronnie sat down on the outer side of Ginny, turning her head towards the pitch to give the friends privacy to talk. However, Ginny was having none of it. She grabbed Ronnie’s hand.

“Are you excited for the match?” There was a glimmer in her eye. “I can’t wait to see the team absolutely shit all over the Slytherins. They totally deserve it.”

“Very excited!” Ronnie replied, a wide smile growing across her face. She loved to watch the Gryffindor players zoom around the stadium as blurs of red and gold, and she particularly liked to watch Fred and George as they cockily swung Bludgers this way and that. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by the loud booming of Lee’s voice over the stadium. The match was about to begin.

Playing against the Slytherins was not as easy as playing against the Hufflepuffs, as they had the last match. Quite a bit of time had passed before either party scored (Angelina Johnson finally made it past the Slytherin keeper), but the game had Ronnie on the edge of her seat. Her eyes darted across the stadium, watching as the Quaffle was passed this way and that, alternating between points for the Slytherins and the Gryffindors.

Ginny’s gaze was fixed entirely on Harry, although he was not a particularly interesting player for the first half of the match. Ronnie noticed the Malfoy boy keeping a close eye on Harry as well, ready to pounce whenever the Gryffindor Seeker made a move. Harry faked him out a couple of times, by diving towards an imaginary Snitch, only to pull the tip of his broom back towards the sky, laughing audibly.

After around forty minutes of game play, Ginny eagerly notified Ronnie that Harry had spotted the Snitch for real this time, by grabbing at the sleeve of her shirt and tugging. Ronnie directed her attention to the boy zipping through the stadium, chased closely by Malfoy. Though it was clear from the very first match Ronnie ever saw that Harry had an unmatched talent for Quidditch. She had no doubts that he would successfully capture the Snitch, securing a win for their House.

Unfortunately, she never got the chance to see. As Harry and Malfoy zoomed in and out of the players, Ronnie was suddenly distracted by a very loud cracking sound. She darted her attention back to the rest of the players, only in time to catch a ginger boy falling off of his broom and landing heavily on the pitch, completely unconscious. Ginny let out a scream.

“Hey! Stop! Help him!”

She leapt to her feet and began making her way down towards the pitch, followed closely by Ronnie, Hermione, and Ron. Ginny leaned against the stadium barrier, watching worriedly as Madam Hooch blew her whistle furiously and ran towards the crumpled figure of the boy. Ronnie squinted her eyes, unable to tell from so far away whether it was Fred or George.

The group watched as Madam Hooch pointed her wand at the boy, whose body soon began levitating towards the castle. When the two disappeared out of sight, Harry came jogging over to the stands, out of breath and sweaty from the game.

“It’s George,” he panted. “Took a Bludger straight to the head. Game’s been called off.”

Ronnie swallowed, a heaviness growing in her stomach. She was overcome with worry, looking nervously between Harry and Ginny. Ginny no longer seemed to be as concerned in Harry’s company, and the boy seemed completely nonchalant over the entire thing. Ronnie cleared her throat.

“Will he be okay? He will, right?”

“Oh, sure,” Harry shrugged. “It happens all the time. Quidditch is a rough game, you know. They’ll probably keep him in the Hospital Wing overnight. I’m sure you could visit him, though.” He turned back to Ginny, who blushed. Ronnie, sensing that her presence was no longer particularly appreciated, turned on her heel and made her way back to the castle.

The Hospital Wing was, thankfully, unfamiliar territory to Ronnie, but she found it with the help of a confused-looking first-year. It was a bright room, sunshine pouring in from the many windows lining the walls, bathing the various rows of hospital beds in a warm, golden light. The wing was also mainly empty, save for a student with a cast around his arm and of course, the unconscious form of George Weasley at the very end of the room.

Fred and Lee were standing over him, all the while joking to each other about the game. Just like Harry, neither of the boys seemed particularly concerned. Their faces lit up upon seeing Ronnie.

“There she is!” Fred bellowed, garnering an angry glare from the stout medi-witch in the corner. “Come to pay your respects, Ronnie darling?”

“He’s not dead, Weasley,” Ronnie shot back, but upon looking down at her friend, he very well could have been. She wasn’t quite used to seeing Quidditch injuries yet, and the bruising and bleeding on George’s unconscious face was making her queasy. She averted her gaze.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” Lee piped up, sensing Ronnie’s discomfort. “Happens all the time. He’ll probably be pissed the game got cancelled, but it had to be. Isn’t fair to play with only one Beater.”

“I’m not worried,” Ronnie replied. “Just wanted to see how he was doing.” She lowered herself into the wicker chair situated next to the bed. Lee coughed awkwardly.

“Actually, Ron, this is great timing, we were just about to run off to get something to eat,” he began. “Course, we’d feel bad leaving Georgie here all by himself. But if you’re staying, we could have time to grab a snack?” He looked at her hopefully, and Ronnie smiled.

“Sure, no problem. Not sure he’ll wake up before you come back, anyways.”

“Thanks, darling,” Fred patted the top of Ronnie’s head, and she watched as the two boys disappeared out of the Hospital Wing. She looked back down at George, and noticed that although he was clearly injured, he did look to be very peaceful. His golden eyelashes rested gently on his freckled cheeks, the bruising framing his cheekbones in a sickeningly beautiful way. She found herself surveying every inch of his features, taking her time to memorize his physique, when he opened his eyes.

Ronnie leaned back with surprise, a small gasp emitting from her lips. She’d never seen someone come out of consciousness before, and hadn’t expected it to be so abrupt. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“Hi Oxley,” George murmured, his voice heavy from sedation. “Like what you see?”

She rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to smack the injured boy upside his head. “Nasty fall you took there, Weasley,” she replied. “I’m glad to see you’re still all in one piece.”

He chuckled softly. “Sweet of you to worry about me.” He winked, but winced at the pain from the bruising.

“I’m not worried about you,” Ronnie spit back. “If you fall and break your brain, who’s going to help me with my homework?”

“Looking out for number one, huh?” George’s eyelids fluttered closed once more. “I like that about you, Ron.” Ronnie moved to stick out her tongue, but she was ushered away by the medi-witch.


	7. The Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny gushes about Harry and an invitation is extended.

Fred, Lee, and Harry had all been right. George healed miraculously quickly, which wasn’t such a miracle once Ronnie remembered the capabilities of magic healing. He was back to his normal joking self by that very evening, but the medi-witch, who Ronnie later learned was called Madam Pomfrey, insisted the ginger boy stay overnight for observation.

Ronnie had toted her leftover assignments to the Hospital Wing. She convinced Madam Pomfrey that she’d get a zero if George didn’t help her, but the boy wasn’t much help anyways. As she scratched down an essay for History of Magic, George continuously flicked balled up pieces of parchment at her face, laughing jovially when they hit her smack in the eyes or nose.

She was relieved when he was finally back on his feet, but it meant his so-called pranks were considerably more intense than parchment to the face. Ronnie often found herself refusing offered sweets from the twins and making sure to check a room carefully before entering if she’d seen Fred and George walk out. But the jokes were altogether appreciated as exam season drew nearer, what with the Christmas holidays just around the corner.

Neither Fred nor George had pried much about Ronnie’s holiday plans. She told them she’d be visiting her family back in America, and they’d left it at that. Only Ginny was persistent about the miniscule details of her break. As the girls laid across Ronnie’s bed one evening, Ginny couldn’t help but inquire more about her upcoming vacation.

“How are you even getting to America, anyway?” Ginny asked, tossing a model Snitch into the air and catching it. “You can’t Apparate across countries, right?”

“I’m taking a plane,” Ronnie lied. “Muggle transportation.” She’d taken airplanes before; she’d even taken one to get to England in the first place. It was much easier than the various Apparition checkpoints she’d need to go through, and much calmer on the stomach.

“I’m going to miss you,” Ginny whined, flipping over on her stomach to face Ronnie. She feigned a pout. “Why can’t you just come to the Burrow instead? I told you it’s no problem. Harry always comes, and sometimes Hermione does, too.”

It was true that Ginny had extended an invitation to Ronnie for the holidays, but she hadn’t wanted to intrude. It felt a bit strange for her; though she was quite close with Ginny and the twins, she’d never met Mr. or Mrs. Weasley, and she only really knew Ron through his sister. She could only imagine how awkward she’d feel showing up at their doorstep for what many would consider to be a family holiday.

“My parents wouldn’t be too happy with me,” Ronnie replied, reaching out and catching the Snitch. “They miss me enough as is!”

Ginny stuck her tongue out, but was apparently satisfied with Ronnie’s answer. Ronnie sighed, tossing the Snitch back to her friend. She glanced out the window at the rainy grounds.

In all truthfulness, she’d be spending the holidays with Big Jim at the Hog’s Head, and she was the most excited about it as she’d been about holidays in a long time. She’d sent him an owl as soon as her plans were finalized, and Big Jim was more than happy to have her. But she didn’t want to tell her friends this; she didn’t want them to feel sorry for her, when she wasn’t sorry about it at all.

“At least we have the party before we leave. I expect you to get fucked up, Rons. That would be a sight to see.” Ginny laughed, her freckled face flushing red with excitement. Ronnie stared at her quizzically.

“Party?” Ronnie didn’t remember hearing anything about any party. She’d been to a few kickbacks held in the Gryffindor Common Room, but they could hardly be called parties. More like throwing back a few Butterbeers while Fred and George unveiled whatever joke products they had come up with that week.

Ginny’s eyes widened, and she smacked her palm to her forehead. “I forgot! Of course you wouldn’t know about it, since you’re new here. The students throw a party in the Room of Requirement on the last day before the Christmas holidays. It’s a tradition.”

“You don’t get caught?” As much fun as a large party sounded to Ronnie, she couldn’t imagine it not getting shut down by the professors. Most of the Common Room kickbacks ended with McGonagall angrily climbing through the portrait hole, telling the students to go to bed.

Ginny shook her head. “The older students have always done some enchantments on it, but I think the staff just lets us enjoy it at this point. But oh!” She pushed herself to her knees, scooting closer to Ronnie. “It’ll be so much fun!”

It did sound like a lot of fun. Ronnie hadn’t had much of a chance to meet many students from the other Houses, so any chance to socialize with them was one she would willingly take. She knew of a handsome Hufflepuff called Cedric, and of course she knew Luna Lovegood from their meeting in Diagon Alley, but her knowledge was certainly limited.

Ginny jumped from the bed, flinging open the doors to Ronnie’s armoire. She began digging through the hangers fiercely. 

“Hey!” Ronnie jumped from the bed. “Don’t make a mess, Gin!”

Her words went unheeded. Ginny began gathering garments in her arms, tossing some onto the bed and others directly onto the floor. Ronnie swooped down to pick them up, only to be met in the face with another article of clothing.

“I’m very, hmf,” — another shirt hit her in the face — “I’m very happy with my wardrobe as is, Ginny!”

Ginny finally stopped. She was holding a black dress in her hands, her eyes wide. She turned to face Ronnie, giving her a cheeky grin.

“This one.”

Ronnie reached for it, but Ginny turned her body, her eyes all the while marveling at the dress. It was somewhat older, purchased at least several years ago, but it was undeniably beautiful. The material was silk, with thin straps, a cowl neckline, and a small slit up the side. It was ridiculously simple in Ronnie’s opinion; she had bought it for one of her very first parties at Ilvermorny, but had never gotten to wear it. Now, it just reminded her of a life once lived.

“I don’t like that one,” Ronnie replied. “You should wear it, it’ll look better on you.”

“Are you kidding?” Ginny reached out, holding the dress up to Ronnie’s body. “Rons, I’m not kidding. This is ridiculously fucking sexy. You have to wear it.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a dress to be ridiculously fucking sexy,” she joked. “But seriously. It’s so old. I’m sure I have something better I can wear. Like this,” she reached for a red bra top that had been tossed onto the bed. “Right?”

“No.” Ginny stretched out the vowel, her eyes rolling back dramatically. “This one. Trust me.”

“I don’t need to wear this for anybody,” Ronnie retorted. “What are you going to wear? You know, for Harry?”

Ginny blushed, but ignored Ronnie’s question. “Whether you need someone or not —”

“Which I don’t!”

“Right, which you don’t, is out of the question. It’s a matter of how many eyes you can pull. You’re new! People are already curious about you as is. Give them a little something more to be curious about.” She winked.

Ronnie smiled, knowing full well that her friend wouldn’t give it up. She’d been lucky Ginny had moved on from pestering her about her holiday plans, she may as well give in and wear the damn dress to make her happy. Plus, she was right. A few pairs of eyes on her couldn’t hurt.

“Fine,” she replied. “But I expect you to dress equally as tantalizing for Harry!”

Ginny leaned in, her eyelids lowered, a coy smile spreading across her face. “Oh, don’t worry,” she whispered seductively. “I plan to.”


	8. Bottoms Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie attends a party in the Room of Requirement.

“Gin, are you almost ready?”

Ronnie traipsed into the shared bathroom for the third time, rolling her eyes at her roommate, who was still fussing over her eyeliner. Ronnie had finished getting ready a good while ago, and was anxious to get to the party. She had donned the black dress with a pair of black heels, and had allowed Ginny to draw on her eyeliner. According to the latter, it needed to be “sharp enough to kill a man.”

Ginny, however, was taking her sweet time fussing over her appearance. She had chosen a red dress, one that matched her hair, and was constantly wiping off and redrawing the wing of her liner. Ronnie knew her roommate wanted everything to be perfect for Harry, but she couldn’t help but grow annoyed at the wait.

“Yes, yes.” With one final sweep, Ginny dropped the eyeliner pen into the sink, and turned to face Ronnie, a beaming smile across her face. She looked incredible; her auburn hair curled around her face, her pink lips shining under a layer of gloss. Ronnie wolf-whistled.

“Damn, bitch! Harry’s a lucky man.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, shutting off the bathroom light and moving into Ronnie’s room. “I’m ready now. Shall we?”

Ronnie had absolutely no idea where this Room of Requirement was, so she was thankful for Ginny’s guiding hand. Without her, Ronnie highly doubted she would have ever found it. The room was well hidden, and materialized first as a blank wall. A door didn’t appear until Ronnie shut her eyes at Ginny’s instruction, and thought hard about a raging party.

When the door did finally appear, the two girls pushed it open. Ronnie’s jaw dropped.

The room was enormous, with high ceilings and several windows, all of which had been enchanted to constantly show the starry night sky. Technicolor lights flashed overhead as Ronnie followed Ginny inside, observing the set-up of the party. There was a large clearing in the middle of the room that held several students grinding up against each other, sweating and laughing along with the music. A bar lined one wall, the drinks pouring themselves into glass goblets. On either side of the dance floor, chairs and tables lingered in the darkness, and Ronnie could make out a few couples sneaking kisses to each other when nobody was looking.

Ginny spotted Harry, Ron, and Hermione almost immediately, sitting at one of the tables. She pulled Ronnie over towards them, but Ronnie detached her hand from her friend’s, mouthing something about going to the bar. She stalked over, unsure of how to order a drink from a barkeep-less bar, when a pair of arms snaked around her waist and lifted her up off the floor, spinning her around in a dizzying circle.

“Put me down!” Ronnie laughed, kicking her high-heeled shoe at her captor’s knee. She heard a small grunt and the grip on her waist was loosened. Spinning around, she came face-to-face with Fred, grinning at her cheekily.

“Weasley!” She smacked him on the arm. “Mind your manners!”

“Only if you mind them for me,” he winked. “Hey, have you seen Angelina? I wouldn’t mind getting up close and personal with her tonight.” Ronnie smacked him again, causing some of his drink to slosh out of the goblet. He held his hands up in defeat.

“Fine, fine. I’ll dip.” He turned to leave.

“Wait!” Ronnie grabbed his arm, pulling him back around. “Where’s George?”

Fred offered her a suggestive smile, stopping only when she raised her hand to smack him once more. “Sorry, darling. Turn around.”

Sure enough, George was standing several feet behind Ronnie, chatting animatedly with Lee. Ronnie offered Fred a sweet smile, before striding over to meet them. She noticed they were both holding drink goblets, and hoped one of them might be able to tell her how to order from the bar itself.

“Georgie,” she wrapped her arm around his muscular back, pulling him into a sort of side-hug. He jumped a little, before looking down at her and smiling. He reached his arm around her, settling it protectively on the small of her back.

“There you are! We’ve been wondering when you’d get here. What took you so long?”

“Ginny,” Ronnie replied. “Wanted to look good for Harry.”

George scoffed, which caused Lee to break out into laughter, sending some of his drink out through his nostrils. Ronnie smiled.

“Course she did,” George mumbled. “That git. He better be nice to my sister.”

“I’m sure he will be,” Ronnie dropped her arm, but George kept his hold on her. “Hey, can either of you help me get a drink? Not really sure who to ask, considering there’s nobody behind this bar.”

“It’s simple,” Lee returned. “You just ask the bar. Like this.” He turned towards the wooden surface. “HEY BAR! MY FRIEND HERE WANTS SOMETHING TO DRINK!”

Ronnie stifled back a laugh, but she instantly quieted down as a bottle of Firewhiskey levitated into the air, pouring the amber liquid carefully into a glass goblet, before returning to its resting place on the bar. Lee picked up the goblet and handed it to her, shrugging.

“There you go.”

Ronnie scoffed with amazement, but quickly took the cup and downed half of the amber alcohol. She liked Firewhiskey; it was sweet but spicy, and it always got the job done. She finished it completely, placing her goblet back onto the bar, before turning to the two boys.

“Let’s dance.”

Lee put up his hands to protest, but Ronnie ignored him. She grabbed each of their hands and pulled them towards the dance floor, weaving her way in between the many students. She caught sight of Fred, hips grinding passionately against Angelina, and winked.

The three friends began to sway to the music, the alcohol coursing through their veins. Ronnie felt her cheeks flush pink, laughing as Lee and George performed a very drunken version of the waltz to a pop song with a fast beat. Their ridiculous dancing had caught the attention of the rest of the floor, and soon Ronnie found her way forced to the outside of a circle, as the students were making room for the two boys to continue their waltz.

The waltz very quickly turned into a dance battle, in which Fred, George, and Lee busted out their worst possible dance moves. They were the only ones willing to participate; everyone else watched the boys with laughter from the sidelines. Eventually, a very drunk boy with a round face burst through the crowd and fell into the splits, earning a screaming applause. The dance battle had been won.

George made his way back over to Ronnie, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. His breath reeked of Firewhiskey, his cheeks glowing with happiness. She smiled at him.

“Very cute moves, Weasley.”

He winked. “Too bad I lost to Longbottom. I thought I had it in the bag!”

Ronnie rolled her eyes, snaking her arms around his neck, her chest flush against his. He dug his fingers into her waist, holding her closely to his body. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

“Dance with me, Oxley.”

Ronnie gave him a wink, swaying her hips to the music. The room was warm, but not hot, the lights bright, but not blinding. She was loose with the alcohol, but sober enough to relish every moment in the Room of Requirement with her friends. For once, Ronnie felt nothing but absolute contentment.

She danced with George for a few songs, their moves getting more and more raunchy as drinks kept coming. Eventually, she tore her eyes away from the dance floor, only to see Ginny pulling Harry out of the room, a look of pure mischief on her face. Ronnie laughed, but she bit her lip almost immediately as she felt something growing between her and George.

Ronnie fought the urge to look down. Wanting to save George from any possible embarrassment, she let go, claiming to be ready for bed. He gave her a smile and a wink, before slinking away to join Fred and Lee, both of whom were getting a little too close with some of the girls at the party.

Ronnie walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room, her heels clasped in her hand. She threw them onto the floor of her dorm, not even bothering to get undressed before collapsing into her bed. She groaned and raised her wand at the shared bathroom, muttering a silencing spell and waiting as the muffled giggles and moans slowly drowned out. She flipped onto her back, a smile forming across her face.

Her heart felt like it had grown three sizes.


	9. Christmas at the Hog's Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie spends Christmas with Big Jim, meeting several people along the way.

It snowed the entirety of the Christmas holidays, and Ronnie couldn’t have been more pleased. As she trudged through the icy slush on her morning walks, she realized just how much the snow felt like home. She felt a twinge of homesickness in her stomach but shook it off, determined not to think too much about prior Christmases.

Big Jim was determined to make Christmas for him and Ronnie as festive as possible. On Ronnie’s first day back, he had broken out an old box chock-full of dusty decorations; broken lights, tinsel mixed with spiderwebs, and boughs of holly that were dead and crispy on the ends. Still, Ronnie spent the entire afternoon helping him decorate the inside of the Hog’s Head, even going so far as to Transfigure the dead holly into a beautiful wreath for the front door (though the ends of the wreath remained quite brittle).

The first few days of the holidays were fairly busy for the pub, full of wizards and witches hoping to get a break from their families and those spending Christmas alone looking for a bit of company. Ronnie had offered to help Big Jim with customers, but he’d sent her upstairs under the command that she rest and relax, and possibly get started on her holiday homework. Though frolicking in the snow seemed like a much better afternoon activity, Ronnie heeded Big Jim, and completed her assignments before the holiday itself. She was then free to pelt as many snowballs at the wall of the pub as she wished.

Ronnie woke early on Christmas morning. Fresh snow had fallen overnight, and she gazed out her dirty window at the crisp blanket covering the grounds of Hogsmeade. Pulling on her robe, Ronnie swept a small pile of presents into her arms and bounded downstairs.

Big Jim was waiting for her. He’d struck up a Christmas tree a few days prior, which was now lined with clumsily wrapped presents. Ronnie added her own to the pile, accepting a mug of hot chocolate from Big Jim and pulling out a creaky wooden chair from the nearest table. There were no other guests at the inn during the holidays, so the two would be spending the morning alone.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” Ronnie mumbled through a mouth of hot chocolate, her hand motioning at the weakly decorated room. Any other person may have considered it to be a sad attempt at holiday spirit, but Ronnie absolutely loved it. She reached for a present to pass to Big Jim, but he stopped her, shoving his own pile into her lap. Ronnie rolled her eyes.

“We can alternate, you know. That’s what people normally do.” But Big Jim shook his head, watching expectantly as Ronnie began tearing at the already-ripped wrapping paper.

Big Jim had gotten Ronnie several presents for Christmas: a pile of sweets from Honeydukes, two beautiful new quills, and a book on British Quidditch teams. Ronnie beamed with pride and gratitude as Big Jim later unwrapped her haul, which included a pack of chewing tobacco and a new waist-apron with the initials ‘BJ’ stitched into the side.

Aside from her gifts from Big Jim, Ronnie had received a few items from her friends. From Ginny, a dark and vampy lipstick; from Fred, a bag of sweets she threw into the trash to avoid jinxes; from George, a small figurine of a frog he’d charmed to hop about. She’d even unwrapped a pile of cakes addressed to her from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, which caused her to blush. Lee Jordan hadn’t forgotten her either, sending her a traveler’s set of wizard chess.

Ronnie was secretly thankful that she’d remembered to send gifts to her new friends, but she hadn’t gotten anything for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, which made her stomach twinge with guilt. While Big Jim tended to the handful of customers that had wandered in for an afternoon drink, Ronnie wrapped her coat around her shoulders and took off in search of something for the Weasley parents.

She was really only familiar with Honeydukes and Zonko’s in Hogsmeade, but neither seemed particularly appropriate for parents. She could always bake them cakes in return, but that seemed like a cop-out. Ronnie sighed, kicking at the snow as she walked. She’d never been bad at giving presents, but she seemed to have drawn a blank when it came to the Weasleys.

After a half-hour of walking and window-shopping, Ronnie decided to stop in at the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer. She had realized over the summer why Hogwarts students typically didn’t go to Big Jim for their afternoon drinks; his Butterbeer was salty and tasted somewhat foul, while the brews at the Three Broomsticks were sweet, frothy, and undeniably delicious.

She had just sat down with her Butterbeer when the door to the pub jingled. Ronnie looked up to see the boy called Cedric enter the pub and order something from the barkeep, a stout woman who was virtually the exact opposite of Big Jim. Ronnie watched him for a while, observing the way he held himself, when he caught her eye. She blushed, but he only smiled.

Accepting his Butterbeer from the barkeep, Cedric strolled over to Ronnie’s table.

“Mind if I sit?”

Ronnie motioned towards the empty chair, smiling as the boy sat down. He removed his jacket, and Ronnie could make out the outlines of his muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. She blushed even deeper.

“You’re the new girl, right? Cedric Diggory.” He stretched a hand across the table, which Ronnie took. “I’ve seen you around. Gryffindor, right?”

“That’s right,” she replied. “Ronnie Oxley. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he took a sip. “So Ronnie, what are you doing here on Christmas Day?”

Ronnie shifted in her seat, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. She knew she shouldn’t have any qualms lying to this boy she hardly knew. But at the same time, something made her desperately want to tell him the truth.

“I’m staying in town, at the Hog’s Head,” she replied. “What about you, why are you here?”

“Oh, just waiting for my dad,” Cedric took another sip. “My mum ran out of candy for the cousins, she sent us here to pick up some more. But I figured I’d get a drink while he chose between Fizzing Whizbees and Acid Pops.” He winked.

Ronnie couldn’t help but notice how handsome Cedric was, especially up close. He had light, mousy-brown hair that fell messily around his temples. His eyes were a muddled hazel, his nose bearing a light freckling like George. Most of all, she noticed how relaxed he was, even in the presence of a total stranger.

She opened her mouth to ask him more about himself, his dad, anything really, when the pub door jingled once again and a small man with wire-rimmed glasses waved furiously in their direction. Cedric caught sight of him, and immediately downed his drink.

“Sorry, got to run. It was nice meeting you, Ronnie. See you back at school?”

“Bye, Cedric, see you.” She watched as the boy disappeared with his father, a small twinge of jealousy forming beneath her surfaces. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent a holiday with her family, at least not one where they were happy like the Diggorys.

Ronnie finished her drink, returning her empty glass to the barkeep before exiting the pub. She straightened her coat, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, preparing for the chilly walk back to the Hog’s Head. She had only taken a few steps when she was pelted in the side of the head with a snowball.

Whipping around, Ronnie found herself face to face with the cheeky grins of Fred and George, both of whom were bundled up tightly under layers and layers of warm clothing. Had it not been for the ginger locks peeking out underneath their knitted hats, Ronnie doubted she would’ve recognized them at all.

“Excuse you,” she laughed, brushing the snow off of the side of her face. “It’s really not nice to hit people with snowballs on Christmas.”

Fred rolled his eyes, pulling down his scarf so that he could properly talk. “It’s always nice to hit people with snowballs, especially on Christmas.” He eyed her with suspicion. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in America with your family?”

“Right,” Ronnie replied, thankful that the bright flushing of her cheeks looked more from the cold than embarrassment. “Trip got cancelled at the last minute, so I’ve been staying in town. At the Hog’s Head.”

Fred feigned a gag while George scoffed audibly. “Well, that settles it. You’re coming home with us.” George grabbed Ronnie around the arm, but she remained planted to the ground.

“No, I can’t. I promised the innkeeper I’d spend Christmas with him. He’s a very kind man, actually.”

“You can’t spend Christmas with a stranger! Come on.” This time, Fred wrapped his arm around Ronnie’s left. She was flanked on both sides by the twins.

“No, really, I can’t! He’s not a stranger, he’s quite nice. You can meet him if you’d like. What are you doing here anyways?” Ronnie looked around, but she didn’t spot a single other ginger person nearby. Fred and George were clearly alone.

George shrugged. “Wanted to pick up some more stuff from Zonko’s for tonight. It’s too stuffy at home right now, Percy won’t shut up about his girlfriend.” 

“But anyways, Ronnie, you do have to come with us. Mum will freak if she finds out we ran into you and didn’t bring you home for Christmas.” Fred tightened his grip. “I’m really not even asking anymore. I’m telling you.” He grinned cheekily.

“I can’t, not for Christmas,” Ronnie could hardly imagine leaving Big Jim entirely by himself on the holiday. But it was clear the twins weren’t going to take no for an answer. “Maybe after?”

“New Year’s, then!” George exclaimed, copping Ronnie roughly on the shoulder. “It’ll really please Mum. Say you will?”

Ronnie rolled her eyes, but she had to admit, New Year’s with the Weasleys sounded like a lot of fun. It wasn’t as much of a family holiday as Christmas, and she’d be able to spend it with her friends. She nodded, garnering a loud whoop from the boys.

“New Year’s it is.”


	10. New Year's at the Burrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie visits the Burrow for the first time.

The days between Christmas and New Year’s were incredibly calm. It felt much like it had over the summer, with Ronnie taking walks during the day and spending the evenings playing cards and chess with Big Jim. She’d received a letter from Mrs. Weasley the day after Christmas asking her to please stay until the first day of the term, and that she’d hardly be a burden (Ronnie figured the twins had conveyed this fear to their mother).

She’d be taking Floo powder to reach the Burrow, and the idea of appearing dusty in the living room of a family she’d only met part of made Ronnie incredibly anxious. She woke on New Year’s Eve with a funny feeling in her stomach, a mixture both of excitement and nerves. Big Jim insisted she eat something before she left, handing her a plate of scrambled eggs, which Ronnie had to pick through to avoid crunching on any shells.

She packed her items once more, levitating the trunk down the stairs and placing it just outside the fireplace. Big Jim watched from the side, his arms crossed over his chest, a misty glow in his eyes. He pulled Ronnie into another rough hug.

“You be good again, Ron. Mind your manners with the nice people.”

“I will, of course,” Ronnie replied, wrapping her arms around the older man’s back. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Will you write me back at school?”

“You know I will.” He planted a rough kiss on Ronnie’s forehead, extending the jar of Floo powder. Ronnie scooped her fingers in, stepped into the fireplace with her trunk, and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, dropping the green powder as she bellowed, “The Burrow!”

The inside of the Hog’s Head immediately disappeared, and Ronnie felt herself tumbling through space. She closed her mouth tightly to avoid expelling her breakfast, and waited patiently for the spinning to stop. When she opened her eyes, she was met with the stares of five ginger people, all wearing great big smiles. Ronnie let out a small cough.

“Ronnie, dear!” A small, soft woman rushed across the den, throwing her arms around Ronnie. She smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, her ginger locks smushed against Ronnie’s nose. Ronnie figured this to be Mrs. Weasley, and offered her the warmest, most polite smile she could muster.

“Mrs. Weasley, thank you so much for hosting me.” The Weasley matriarch returned the smile, before moving to brush off Ronnie’s clothes, fussing to herself about how dirty Floo travel could be. She then received a curt handshake from a Mr. Arthur Weasley, a tight hug from Ginny, and a sharp smack on the back from Fred. Ronnie flinched a bit as George approached her, bracing for whatever greeting he had in store, but he only pulled her into a tight hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Ronnie felt her heart twinge as George pulled away, chalking it up to be leftover nerves from traveling. She hoisted her trunk out of the fireplace, looking at Mrs. Weasley expectantly.

“Oh, no worries, dear! We’ll put that in Ginny’s room for you.” Lifting her wand, Mrs. Weasley expertly levitated the trunk up the many zig-zagged staircases, where Ronnie heard it land with a distant thud. She took a moment to gaze around the home.

The Burrow was nothing like Ronnie had imagined it. Growing up in a cold stone manor with hardly any natural lighting, she had expected something similar from such a large family as the Weasleys. Instead, the Burrow was warm and cozy, each wall decorated with paintings and trinkets, the soft chairs and couches laden with hand-knitted blankets and pillows. There were plenty of windows, and gazing up at the many staircases, Ronnie could make out at least four floors.

Her observations were interrupted by the front door banging open, revealing another five people, all bundled heavily and covered in snow. Mrs. Weasley immediately began to fuss over them, removing their outer wraps and using drying spells to evaporate any leftover condensation. Upon taking off their layers, Ronnie recognized two of the boys to be Ron and Harry.

The two smiled at her politely, each offering her a bit of an awkward hug. She was glad to see them, even if they weren’t her closest friends. She was still happy to be spending the New Year with familiar faces.

The other three people were unfamiliar to Ronnie, but she was soon introduced by Mrs. Weasley. The ginger boy on the left was called Bill, and the girl next to him was Fleur, his wife. The third person was Charlie, whom Ronnie remembered hearing about one evening from George. If she had remembered correctly, he spent most of his time working with dragons in Romania.

The afternoon passed quite pleasantly. Ronnie spent the time playing wizard chess with Fred and George on one set, while Ginny, Harry, and Ron played on another. Bill, Charlie, and Fleur were engaged in “grown-up” activities, which meant sitting around at the table, drinking tea and chatting about work. Ronnie had learned that Percy was home as well, but he was upstairs.

After a delicious and filling dinner prepared by Mrs. Weasley, the two parents announced that they’d be turning in for the night, and not to get up to too much trouble for the holiday. Bill and Fleur also retired to their bedroom, and Charlie left the home, claiming to have a handful of parties he was expected at. As soon as the older Weasleys had cleared out, Fred leapt to his feet and clapped his hands.

“Finally,” he began. “Now we can have some real fun.”

Much to the dismay of the twins, the night was far too cold and cloudy to light off fireworks, but both boys had quickly come up with a back-up plan. They disappeared into the kitchen, returning shortly with two large bottles of Firewhiskey. Ronnie giggled.

“Alright mates, gather round, gather round,” Fred began pouring shots of Firewhiskey into small glass cups, as the rest of the friends circled around them. “We’ll have to play a little game, won’t we? How about Truth or Dare?”

“Are you five?” Ginny chuckled.

“Tsk, little sister,” George crooned. “You haven’t heard just how good our truths and dares can get.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, but accepted her drink. Ronnie took a long sip, savoring the burning sweetness on her tongue. She felt the warmth spread throughout her body, leaning her head back against the couch.

The game was off and running before Ronnie could even register what was happening. Fred was dared to eat an entire jar of mayonnaise, which caused him to promptly vomit white froth all over the carpet. Ginny revealed the age of her first kiss (much to the dismay of her brothers), while Ron danced with his pants around his ankles for thirty seconds. Ronnie herself completed a series of tasks, from jumping into the freezing pond outside to drinking a cup of pickle juice. She chose dare every time.

As the drinks continued to flow, the challenges got more and more ridiculous. Ginny had a hard time keeping a straight face, bursting out into laughter every few seconds and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously at Harry. Sensing the tension, Fred cheekily dared Ginny and Harry to spend seven minutes in heaven. In a flash, Ginny had pulled Harry upstairs, signaling the end of the game.

Ronnie was considerably drunk now, her words slurring together ever so slightly, but she didn’t mind. She leaned her back against George, his strong body warm beneath her, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. As Fred, Ron, and Harry drunkenly counted down the remaining seconds until midnight, Ronnie couldn’t help but realize that all of her New Year’s wishes had already come true.

Ron had fallen asleep on the couch, his snoring echoing throughout the house. Harry took that opportunity to sneak upstairs and crash in Ron’s bed, as opposed to the pile of blankets on the hardwood floor. Ronnie followed Fred and George upstairs, leaning on the latter to keep from tumbling over. She waved goodnight, her hand reaching for Ginny’s doorknob, when she stopped.

There was a muffled moaning coming from inside the room, mixed with giggles and gleeful shrieks. Ronnie smirked to herself, shaking her head at Ginny. A few months ago, the girl had been so convinced Harry wasn’t paying her any attention. Now, it was pretty damn clear that he was paying her a lot of attention.

Ronnie sat down outside the door, her back leaning against the wood. She allowed her head to fall towards her shoulder, hoping the two wouldn’t be much longer. But the alcohol had made her sleepy, and within minutes, she found herself dozing off.

She was woken later by a prodding at her knee, followed by a hushed whisper.

“Ronnie, wake up.”

She groaned and opened her eyes, squinting to make out the sleepy figure of George in the darkness. He was wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, his hair ruffled in every direction. He bent down.

“What are you doing?”

Ronnie realized that the moans and giggles coming from Ginny’s room had stopped, but Harry was clearly still in there, considering her back was leaning up against the door. She yawned.

“Didn’t want to interrupt,” she jerked her head towards the door behind her. “What are you doing awake?”

“I was getting water,” George offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet. Ronnie stumbled forward slightly, still just tipsy from the alcohol, but George caught her, snaking an arm around the small of her back. As she leaned into him, the scent of cinnamon and clean laundry filled her nose, along with something else she couldn’t quite place. Something that just smelled like him.

“Come on,” he began guiding her towards the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Ronnie mumbled, her eyelids heavy with sleep. She had been having such a good dream. If only she could just sit back down…

“You’re not sleeping outside Ginny’s door. Come on, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the floor.”

Ronnie was far too tired to protest, allowing George to walk her up the stairs and into the twins’ room. She couldn’t see anything in the dark, but she could hear Fred’s light snoring. She stumbled forward as George gave her a light shove, tumbling her onto his mattress. He covered her with the blanket.

“Goodnight, Ronnie.”


	11. Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some wholesome moments between George and Ronnie.

_She was running as fast as she could, her head whipping back around every few seconds to make sure he wasn’t behind her. Only a few more feet and she’d be at the door. She reached out her hand, her heart pounding in her chest, her fingertips only centimeters from the metal doorknob…_

Ronnie jerked awake as a pillow soared across the room, landing with a soft thump on her head. She blinked her eyes open, immediately noticing that she wasn’t in her dorm. The ceiling of the room was higher, the light from the window brighter. Turning her head to the side, Ronnie spotted Fred sitting on his bed, smiling cheekily at her. She groaned.

“What do you want, Weasley?”

“Hadn’t expected to wake up with a pretty girl in the bedroom,” he smirked. “I would’ve worn my nice pajamas.” Ronnie fought back a laugh at Fred, who was clad only in a very thin pair of boxers. She averted her gaze to the floor, where a small pile of pillows and blankets were laid out. George, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Kicked my brother out of bed, shame on you, Ronnie,” Fred tsked. “I hope you at least returned the favor in some way.” He winked, and Ronnie’s cheeks flushed red. She threw the pillow back across the room.

“Real charming, Weasley. Where is he, anyways?”

“Must’ve gone down for breakfast. Although, you don’t have to leave just yet,” Fred forced another unnatural wink as Ronnie stuck her tongue out at him. The boy was a terrible flirt. And to make things better (or worse, for Fred), he was also a terrible flirt.

Ronnie swung her legs over the side of George’s bed, stretching her arms over her head. She reached for a Quidditch sweater hung over the headboard, sliding it on over her clothes. She hadn’t gotten to change into pajamas last night, what with Harry and Ginny getting down and dirty.

George was sitting at the table downstairs with Ron and Harry, all of whom looked incredibly tousled from sleep. Mrs. Weasley had cooked up an abundance of bacon and eggs. Upon her entrance, the older woman’s eyes lit up and she smiled.

“Ronnie, dear, did you sleep well?” Her eyes roamed over Ronnie’s outfit, her mouth drooping into somewhat of a frown.

“Too tired to change!” Ronnie quickly replied, not wanting to garner suspicion about Harry and Ginny. She slid into the seat next to George, reaching across the table for a plate. His gaze was fixed on her, his eyes looking her up and down. She frowned.

“What?”

“Nice sweater,” George winked. “You look a lot better in it than I do.”

“I look better than you in a lot of things,” Ronnie replied, scooping a bit of scrambled egg onto her plate. Just from their appearance, she could tell that Mrs. Weasley’s eggs would be a lot better than Big Jim’s. She stopped when she noticed George’s eyes were still stuck to her body.

“You do look better than me in a lot of things,” he replied, turning back to the table. But Ronnie was still able to catch the words he uttered under his breath. “Like my bed.”

She kicked him under the table, her cheeks flushing even redder than before. Truthfully, she would’ve loved to see what he looked like himself, asleep and peaceful. But she’d been so tired that she hadn’t even memorized the way his sheets smelled, or the sound of his breathing in the dark. She secretly hoped it wouldn’t be the last time she slept in his bed.

Ronnie tried not to think about the feelings that were growing beneath her surfaces every time she looked at George. He was the closest thing she had to a best friend at Hogwarts, and she loved spending time with him. But ever since that very first day, when he and Fred had introduced themselves to her, she had felt a twinge in her heart. Like she’d tied a string to her heart, looping the other end around George’s. Now, whenever she was far from him, she felt a pulling sadness.

But she knew it was silly, and she knew better than to trust her feelings when it came to boys. She’d been wrong before, and it had landed her in a lot of hot water. She wouldn’t be rash like that again. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her friendship with George, no matter what her heart was telling her. He was her best friend, and that would have to be enough.

It didn’t help that both Weasley twins were such flirts. Though Fred’s constant winking and raunchy comments made Ronnie laugh more than anything else, George’s sneaky remarks made her blush, and the way he wrapped his arm around her sent a spark throughout her entire body. But she knew better. It wasn’t worth losing his friendship over. 

The sun had decided to come out for New Year’s Day, though the ground outside was still covered in snow, the temperature still freezing cold. As the morning went on, the remaining Weasleys wandered in and out of the kitchen, stopping for breakfast before moving on with their day. Fred had taken the sunny day as an opportunity to get some batting practice in, smashing Bludgers this way and that out in the yard. Ronnie had told George he could join, that she didn’t mind being alone and watching, but he refused. Instead, he threw a coat at her, and ushered her out the front door, in the opposite direction of Fred.

Ronnie trudged behind him, her boots making deep prints in the snow. He walked a lot faster than she did, being as tall as he was, and she struggled to keep up. Eventually he stopped around a smattering of boulders, where he stood looking out into the horizon. As Ronnie caught up, she realized they were standing on a cliffside, the green meadows continuing several hundred kilometers below them.

“You’re not going to push me off, are you?” Ronnie asked, backing away from the edge. She wasn’t the biggest fan of heights. Instead, she took a seat on one of the boulders, blowing warm air into her hands. George chuckled.

“No, Ronnie, I’m not going to push you off. But look,” he motioned out at the countryside below. “It’s pretty, don’t you think?”

“It’s really pretty. I didn’t realize we were on a cliff.” George sat down next to her on the boulder, his thigh pressed up against hers.

“Not many people do. I’d come here a lot when I was younger, when everyone was pissing me off. I’d just sit here, and look out at the ground below. Pretend I was the king of the world.”

Ronnie smiled at the idea of a young George spreading his arms wide at the edge of the cliff, feeling the wind through his hair. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ronnie.”

“Me too.” The twinge in her heart went off once more as George snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her in even closer. She began to feel the coldness dissipate.

“I think you might be my best friend,” Ronnie began. “Yeah, you are.”

George pulled back from her slightly, and she could see his wide grin, his eyebrows raised. She rolled her eyes.

“I take it back, never mind. I think Fred is my best friend.”

But the words had already been uttered, and George let out a dramatic whoop, raising his hands into the air triumphantly. He returned one arm back around Ronnie’s waist and pulled her even closer, sticking his tongue out as if to lick the side of her cheek. She fought back.

“What are you doing? You said I’m your best friend, you can’t pull away now!” Ronnie continued to struggle, bursting into laughter as George moved his other hand to tickle her side. Any other time, she would have been nervous about laughing so hard right next to a cliff, but her mind was nowhere near her fear of heights. She grabbed George by the chin and attempted to push him backwards, but he was much too strong for her. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her tight.

“I’m only kidding, Oxley. You’re my best friend, too.”

Ronnie bit her lip, a smile spreading across her face, but George frowned, mimicking the girl’s earlier expression. He adopted a false tone.

“I take it back, never mind. I think Fred is my best friend.”

Ronnie shoved him as hard as she could.


	12. Fly Me to the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie learns to fly.

As winter turned into spring, and the snow melted around the grounds, Ronnie found it harder and harder to keep her flying secret from Fred and George. She wasn’t embarrassed by it at first, until she had gotten to know the twins better and realized just how much they’d tease her when they found out she didn’t know how to ride a broom. The time for asking for help had certainly passed, and Ronnie was running out of excuses each time they asked her to play a game of pickup Quidditch or fly loops around the grounds.

One evening in March, after the twins had returned from Quidditch practice, George took his normal seat across the table from Ronnie, who was working diligently on an essay for Potions. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his Quidditch robes, and Ronnie could smell him from where she was sitting. She wrinkled her nose.

“Go shower, Weasley. I think I can manage on my own for a bit.”

But George only grinned, lifting his arms behind his head to expose his armpits. He made a wafting motion with his hand, pushing the air towards Ronnie. She rolled her eyes.

“When are you going to play with us?” George whined. “You go on and on about how much you like the game. I’m finding it hard to believe that you’re, what did you say last time? Oh yeah, reviewing how to brew the perfect Gillyduke potion. I may not be the best in our class, but last time I checked, there’s no such thing.”

Ronnie’s cheeks flushed, and she averted her gaze from the boy across from her.

“Tell me, Ronnie, why are you avoiding playing with us? Worried you’ll lose?” He winked, but Ronnie only bit her lip, looking back up at him with utter seriousness. He let the smirk fall from his face. “What is it?”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me?” She shut her eyes, bracing for the string of taunts that was sure to come after she told George. But he leaned across the table, grabbing Ronnie’s hand in his own.

“I promise, you know that.”

“I, well, I don’t know how to fly.”

Ronnie gritted her teeth, her gaze fixed back on George, but he didn’t react in any dramatic way. He only smiled warmly.

“That’s silly, Ronnie. You know I can teach you.”

“Wait, what? You’re not going to make fun of me?” She gazed at George incredulously, but he only shrugged, his hand still wrapped warmly around Ronnie’s.

“No, I won’t. But Fred might, so maybe keep that a secret from him. Seriously, Ronnie, I can teach you. We’ll start tomorrow.”

“I don’t have a broom,” Ronnie mumbled. She felt a tad bit embarrassed. Practically every student at Hogwarts had a broom of some sort, but she’d never felt the need to buy one, mainly because she knew she had no idea how to ride it.

“You can use mine, I’ll use Fred’s. Don’t worry.” He released his grip on his hand, reclining further back into the chair, a look of victory across his face. Ronnie raised an eyebrow.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Oh, nothing. Just another item on a long list of things I’ve helped you with. Potions, Astronomy, flying, you’re gonna have to start paying back these favors soon, Ronnie.”

-

Ronnie arrived at the Quidditch pitch after class the next day, under the strict instructions of George. When she got there, she spotted him in the sky, zooming back and forth on his broom. She rolled her eyes. What a show off.

Landing gracefully, George offered Ronnie a cheeky smile, before handing her his broom. He then jogged to the side of the pitch to pick up Fred’s broom, securing it tightly underneath his arm. Ronnie noticed the broom she’d been given was clearly old; the twigs were breaking off and the wood was chipped. She wondered how George managed to be so good in the air on a broom that was just about falling apart at the seams.

“First flying lesson, let’s do this.” He bit his lip with a smile. “First thing you’re gonna do is straddle the handle. You can do it, yes, just like that. Wow, Ronnie. Alright.” He chuckled to himself as Ronnie swung one leg over the broom, holding it between her legs, her hands clasped around the top of the handle. She watched him expectantly.

“Great, now all you need to do is kick off from the ground, and you should levitate a few feet in the air.” He mounted his own broom, pushed off, and hovered above the grassy pitch. “Just like that. Try it.”

It took Ronnie a couple of tries to get into the air, but once she did, she suddenly understood the appeal of flying. As she hovered over the grass, she let out a gleeful laugh, stretching her toes beneath her. She was flying, and George was teaching her.

He swooped higher into the air, and Ronnie couldn’t help but try and follow him. She pointed the handle of her broom upwards, just as she had seen him do, and leaned forward slightly. Slowly, she climbed higher into the sky.

George decided to zip back and forth, begging Ronnie to chase him. She realized she was a much better flyer when she wasn’t thinking, and found it both fun and easy to zoom through the pitch, clinging onto the handle of her broom, laughing at the shape of the ginger boy always ahead of her. He stopped at the top of the pitch, next to the Quidditch hoops, and waited for her to catch up.

“You’re a natural, Oxley,” he commended. “Didn’t even really need my help, did you?”

“Obviously I needed your help,” Ronnie shot back. “Otherwise, I would’ve been able to fly by now.” She took a moment to catch her breath, glancing around at the school from halfway into the sky. However, once she had slowed down, the full extent of her situation hit her. She realized the ground was a very far way down.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled, glancing below her. Her palms began to sweat, and she gripped the broom handle even harder than before. George sensed her nervousness, and began a slow descent, keeping close to her the whole time. He landed gracefully once more, but Ronnie realized at once she’d never landed a broom before. As she got closer to the ground, she stretched out her legs to catch herself, but her foot caught on the turf and she stumbled forward, falling face-first into the grass. She let out a groan.

Ronnie could hear George’s laughter from above her, and she flipped onto her back, covering her face with her hands.

“Don’t laugh, Weasley. It’s embarrassing.”

George offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet, his laughter still ringing throughout the pitch. “You’re not bad, Ronnie, especially not for your first time. But that landing,” he let out another laugh. “I’m sorry, but that was really bloody funny.”

Ronnie gave him a small shove, but he dodged it. Instead, he took back his own broom, ushering Ronnie towards the pitch exit. He stopped for a moment just outside the field, his eyes fixed on Ronnie’s. She smiled.

“Really not bad, Oxley. And I’m sure you’ll do even better next time.” He gave her a wink, and the two friends walked back towards the school.


	13. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie receives a letter.

With regular flying lessons, a mountain of homework, and classes every day, Ronnie found the time flying by. It wasn’t long before the Easter holidays were approaching, and final exams loomed just over the horizon. Her first year at Hogwarts was coming to a close, and she did her best to avoid the sadness that formed beneath her surfaces every time she thought about leaving behind Fred and George for three whole months.

She’d just reached the Great Hall for breakfast when the mail arrived; hundreds of different colored owls swooped throughout the room, carrying letters and packages for their lucky recipients. Ronnie took her seat next to George, who smiled warmly at her, before turning back to his discussion with Lee about the newest joke product he and Fred had been working on. They were quite talented, and their joke products were certain to go far. That is, if Mrs. Weasley ever let them explore the idea.

Ronnie helped herself to some toast, gazing around the room as the owls dropped packages onto the different tables. The only mail she’d gotten at Hogwarts had been from Big Jim, which were usually hastily-scribbled notes about any interesting customers he’d had recently. She’d never received anything from her former friends back home, but it didn’t bother her. She wasn’t sure she wanted them to send her mail anyways.

She had just taken a bite of her toast when a large tawny owl landed on her plate, its talons sinking into the jam. Ronnie jumped back a little bit, but the owl was unphased. Instead, it stuck out its leg and waited for her to remove a small scroll. She did just that, and within seconds, the owl had pecked her hand and flown off.

“Woah, what’ve you got?” George asked, his eyes focused on Ronnie’s letter. She wasn’t entirely sure herself. She didn’t recognize the tawny owl; Big Jim’s owl was small and black, her family’s was snowy and regal. For a moment, she wondered if perhaps her old friends had finally sent her something, but her suspicions were soon thrown out the door. She unrolled the parchment, holding it at an angle so that George’s curious eyes couldn’t quite make out the message.

_Veronica,_

_I hope this owl finds you, wherever you are. Mum and Dad won’t tell me. They said you’ve transferred schools, but they never said where. I’m assuming you’re no longer in the United States, unless you’ve left the Wizarding World altogether. Are you studying at a Muggle university?_

_Anyways, I’m getting married this summer, and I hope you can come to the ceremony. Mum and Dad don’t know I’m inviting you, but I want you there, even if they don’t. We’re holding the wedding on July 22nd at the Manor. I can help you arrange transportation if you need._

_Please let me know if you can make it. I miss you._

_Signed, Benedict_

The color must’ve drained completely from Ronnie’s face, because George began rubbing her back soothingly, a look of utter concern spread across his freckled face. She noticed that Lee was watching her now as well.

“What is it, Ronnie?” George reached for the letter, but Ronnie folded it quickly and stuffed it into her robes. She smiled.

“Oh, nothing. Just something from home.”

Lee turned his focus back to his breakfast, but Ronnie knew that George wasn’t satisfied with her answer. He gazed at her with suspicion, one ginger eyebrow arched in a way that meant he knew something wasn’t right. After all, he was correct about that.

Ronnie excused herself from the table, picking up speed until she was safely back in her dorm. She locked both the front and bathroom doors, collapsing onto the bed with a sob. She stayed locked away for the rest of the day, choosing to skip out on her classes. She needed to sort out her emotions first, but she was finding it harder than ever to do so.

Ginny had knocked on the door several times, but Ronnie had told her to go away, and she finally obliged. Ronnie also heard the mumbles of Harry and Ron, whom Ronnie suspected Ginny sent in her place. She was just about ready to cast a muffliato spell on her door when another knock rang through the room, this time accompanied by a rather deep voice.

“Ron, let me in.”

She sighed and pushed herself off the bed, slowly unlocking the door. Seconds later, George burst into her bedroom, a very worried expression across his face. He immediately pulled her into a hug. Ronnie bit her lip to keep from crying, but a small gasp escaped her lips, tears streaking down her cheeks. George pushed her back.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Ronnie took a deep breath. “The letter, it’s from my brother.”

George ushered her towards the bed, taking a seat on the very edge. He kept his hand gently on her knee. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“I basically don’t,” Ronnie scoffed. A few more tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, as she realized she wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret from George any longer. She’d have to tell him all about her family, about how she hadn’t actually seen them in years, and that she’d spent the holidays with Big Jim because he was the closest thing to a father as she’d ever known.

George didn’t say anything, he only watched her, waiting for her to continue. She took another deep breath.

“I lied,” she began. “I wasn’t supposed to go home for Christmas. I’m not supposed to go home at all.” As soon as the words had left her lips, Ronnie felt an insane weight lift from her chest. She’d done it. She’d told someone.

“What do you mean?” George asked. “You said your parents want you to be happy?”

“Actually, they couldn’t give two fucks about my happiness,” Ronnie snickered. “We aren’t on good terms. We haven’t been, for a really long time. It’s been a few years since I saw them last.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” There was a hint of sadness in George’s eyes, and Ronnie winced. She didn’t want him to pity her.

“It’s not really something you can just bring up,” Ronnie replied. “It’s really complicated.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She did. She didn’t want his pity, but she needed to tell someone. She needed to finally say it out loud.

“It was my second year at Ilvermorny,” Ronnie began, her voice shaking ever so slightly. “I went to a party, and I accepted a drink from some boys I didn’t know,” she rolled her eyes at herself. “To put a long story short, they drugged me. And I wish that had been it. But I found out several days later that while I was asleep, they’d stripped me naked and taken photos of me, at least I hope that’s all they did. The photos were everywhere. Everyone had seen them.”

“Ronnie,” George tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, but she was already on a roll. There was no point in stopping now.

“Anyways, it became a pretty big deal. Everyone had seen them, even some of the teachers. And because everyone had seen them, some of the parents found out about it, too. So you can imagine my parents’ disappointment, when the child they had wanted so badly to be another boy, another heir to the family fortune, turned out to be nothing more than, as my mother puts it, a useless whore.”

She let out a laugh, realizing at once just how fucking ridiculous the entire situation was. She’d been disowned over revenge porn. It sounded like such a lie.

“I’m so sorry,” George pulled her into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around her back protectively. “You deserve so much better than that, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Ronnie lifted her face to look at him. “They were never really my family.”

“You have me,” George replied. “I’m not much, but you’ll always have me. And Fred, and Mum and Dad, and Ron. You have us.”

“Thank you.” She meant it. She was beyond thankful for the kindness the Weasleys had shown her over the holidays, and she knew they’d always be a better family to her than her own.

“Wait a minute,” George began. “Family fortune? Heir?”

“Oh, right,” Ronnie chuckled again. “I’m an Oxley. It doesn’t mean much here, thank Merlin, but it does back in America. We’re kind of like the Malfoys, I suppose. Only less horrible.” She had learned over time that the Malfoys were a powerful pureblood family. At first, Ronnie had been reminded of her own family. But after learning the Malfoys' antiquated ideals, she no longer liked the comparison. “Anyways, my family may not like me, but they do throw a lot of money at me to keep me away. It’s not as much as my brother will get, but it’s something.”

“And your brother, the letter. What did it say?”

“He’s getting married,” Ronnie replied, her smile faltering. In the excitement, she’d forgotten all about the letter. “He’s getting married, and he wants me to attend the ceremony.”

“Well, that’s good, right?” George asked. “He’s reaching out?”

“It’s a little too late,” Ronnie sniffed. “Georgie, I didn’t even know he was engaged. I didn’t even know he was dating anyone. When my parents kicked me out, he stood by and did nothing. This isn’t an olive branch. Whatever this is, it’s to clear his conscience. It’s not about me at all.”

“Will you go?” George kept his arm around Ronnie. It was one thing she’d noticed about him when they first became friends: he really liked to be touching her at all times.

“I don’t know,” Ronnie pulled the letter from her robes, tossing it onto the quilt. “It’s not until July. I guess I have some time to think about it.”

“Well, darling, whatever you choose, I’m here for you.” George smiled at her, and for a moment, Ronnie noticed his eyes lingering on her lips. They were sitting so close to each other, Ronnie could make out each individual freckle on his face. The string on her heart tugged, and she leaned forward ever so slightly.

“God, finally!”

The front door burst open, and Ginny came bounding it. “This bitch has been locked for hours. You good, Ronnie? Hi George,” she waved towards her brother. Ronnie bit her lip.

“All good, Gin.”


	14. Cedric Diggory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie and Cedric spend some time together.

As exam season drew nearer, Ronnie found herself spending more and more time in the library, preparing for her various tests and essays. Neither Fred nor George ever accompanied her, under the guise that they were somehow "allergic" to that part of Hogwarts, so every afternoon, Ronnie toted her books to her favorite table under the window, and set out studying all alone.

She was nose deep in a book on antidotes, when a loud noise caused her to look up. Cedric Diggory, the boy she'd met in the Three Broomsticks over Christmas, was standing in front of her, a warm smile spread across his face. He cleared his throat once more.

"Mind if I sit?"

Ronnie shoveled her parchment and books to one side of the table, allowing the mousy-haired boy to join her. She watched him expectantly as he began pulling out his own homework from his bag, placing it on the table.

"Thought you could use a bit of company," he shrugged. "Revision's quite boring, don't you think?"

"Boring? I could use every second I can get," Ronnie laughed, her eyes darting back to the book. She had a hard time keeping her focus on her studying. Cedric was undeniably handsome, and he was sitting just across the table from her. She kept flicking her eyes upward.

Cedric was tall like George, with mousy-brown hair. Every time he turned to the side, Ronnie caught a glimpse of his sharp jawline. Each time he flipped a page, he clenched his jaw, his eyebrows furrowed in focus. Ronnie could feel her heart thump each time he looked up at her, sparks shooting throughout her body when he offered her a cocky grin.

The best part of it was that he wasn't George. Since the two had almost kissed the day Ronnie received Benedict's letter, she'd been trying her best to cut the string wrapped around her heart. She couldn't have feelings for him, not when he was her best friend, and probably the closest thing to family she had. Cedric was safe. She could flirt with him. He wasn't a risk.

"You're staring, Oxley." Ronnie's attention snapped back, only to see that she was indeed staring off in Cedric's direction. Her cheeks flushed red.

"Nice view," she returned, savoring the cheeky grin that spread across Cedric's face, the hint of blushing that bubbled just beneath his skin. He rolled his eyes playfully.

"So I take that to mean you're not tied down to Weasley? Good to know." He rolled his tongue along his bottom teeth, his eyes surveying Ronnie. She scoffed.

"George is my best friend," she shot back, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"But he's not fucking you?"

"Cedric!" Ronnie swatted his arm, but he dodged it just in time. "Shame on you, Diggory. I'd think you should mind your manners around me."

"Oh yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

"I'd just think you'd want to be a bit nicer," Ronnie winked, her eyes moving back towards her assignment. Cedric scoffed at her, and the two continued to work on in silence. But there was a tension growing in Ronnie's stomach, and she was hoping it wouldn't be silent for much longer.

Cedric glanced at the library clock, his eyes widening in shock. "Oh shit," he mumbled, quickly shoving his belongings back into his bag. "I'm late for Quidditch practice." He jumped to his feet. Ronnie watched him with a slight bit of disappointment. She figured he could sense it.

"Hey, Oxley," he paused, the coy smile back upon his face. "Come hang out with me tonight. The Common Room password is 'Jelly Tart.'"

He disappeared through the library exit.

-

Under the guise that she was getting some late-night studying done in the library, Ronnie slipped out of the Gryffindor Common Room. She'd learned the way to the Hufflepuff dorms from Ginny, who eyed her suspiciously for asking. She knew her roommate had a pretty good idea of why she was heading to a different House's territory, but she hadn't wanted to gush about anything just yet. And she definitely didn't want to tell George.

He was her best friend, but it felt strange to tell him about boys. She couldn't imagine much enjoying hearing him talk about girls, and so she figured she'd do the same. It was easier to tell him she needed to do more revision anyways. But the way his face fell when she refused a game of wizard chess only tightened the string around her heart with a tug.

The Hufflepuff Common Room was a very yellow, cozy room. There was a large fireplace on one wall, surrounded by countless soft seating options. Small wooden tables were tucked into the corners, lined by bookshelves bearing trophies and plaques. The room itself seemed smaller than the one in the Gryffindor Tower, though Ronnie knew they were likely the exact same size.

Cedric was waiting for her, lounging on one of the plush couches. Aside from him, there were two other girls sitting at one of the corner tables, working diligently on revision. Neither had noticed her entering the room. Cedric, however, got to his feet with a smile.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show," he chuckled, pulling her into a bit of an awkward half-hug. As he pressed up against her, Ronnie could feel the hardness of his muscles through his t-shirt. The tension returned.

"You never specified a time," Ronnie replied. "I'm here now."

"And I'm certainly glad about that. Come on." Taking her hand, Cedric led Ronnie down a corridor and up a flight of stairs. He pushed open a wooden door, revealing a bedroom that looked basically identical to her own, except for the various Quidditch decorations and masculine touches. She wondered if perhaps all Hogwarts dorms were built the exact same way.

Ronnie sat down on his bed, leaning her back against the pillows. She watched as he came to join her, sitting against the footboard so that the two were facing each other. She smiled.

"So, Diggory, what did you want me to come over for?"

"I don't know, what did you come over for?" He winked, and Ronnie rolled her eyes. He was certainly a tease. She knew just as well as he did he'd invited her over for a little more than just conversation, and she had willingly accepted. She needed to have some fun without having to worry about the repercussions. And with Cedric, there were hardly any repercussions to worry about.

But she had to admit, she was getting a bit tired of the teasing. Perhaps with someone who actually gave her butterflies, she'd enjoy every minute she spent blushing. But with Cedric, all she wanted to do was rip off his clothes and go to town. There was no point in wasting time.

She pulled her wand from her waistband and pointed it at the door.

"Muffliato."

Cedric gave her a knowing grin and leaned forward, but she held up a finger. She then pointed her wand at the overhead lights.

"Nox."

She couldn't see him in the darkness, but she didn't need to. Within seconds, she felt his lips crash into hers, and for a moment, all of her thoughts disappeared from her head. She was nowhere else besides Cedric's bed, in Cedric's dorm, with Cedric on top of her, kissing her passionately. She gasped and moaned against his lips, finally taking in just how long it'd been since someone had touched her like this, and she'd liked it.

He pulled her into his lap, his hands tugging at her shirt and unclasping her bra, tossing it to the side of the room. She pulled off his t-shirt, her fingers caressing the muscles of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath her. His mouth moved to her collarbones, to the skin just above her breasts, and she buried her face in his hair. He smelled clean, like lavender and starting over.

Cedric pushed her off his lap, changing their positions so that her back was flat against his bed. He pulled down her skirt, his fingers teasing over her as he played with the waistband of her underwear, causing her to squirm with impatience. Ronnie reached for his belt, removing it in one swift motion, her fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. She needed him now.

"Cedric," she whined. "Fuck me, please."

She could hear him let out a laugh in the dark. He pushed two fingers into her, pumping in and out faster and faster as Ronnie whined underneath him, desperate for any kind of touch. She continued to work on the buttons of his pants, growing more and more impatient each second. Finally he obliged, stripping down and positioning himself over her. She heard him mutter a quick contraceptive charm before pushing in.

He didn't feel anything like her last. He wasn't huge, but he knew his angles, and expertly hit Ronnie's weakest spots with each thrust. She dug her nails into his muscled back, his hips rocking into hers, his gruff moans filling her ears. She threw her head back against the pillow, her eyes closed, savoring the feeling of being wanted again. The feeling of teenage pleasure.

It didn't last long. It never does. Cedric reached climax, his hips slamming into Ronnie's, before collapsing next to her, his breathing hard. Ronnie stifled back a laugh. Now that the high of the sex had ended, she had realized just how mediocre it had been. She hadn't even finished herself. Regardless, she allowed him to sling an arm around her shoulder, nestling her head just beneath his chin. She closed her eyes.

"Bet Weasley couldn't fuck you like that," Cedric laughed, breathing heavily. Ronnie ignored him. She knew that if she ever did have sex with George Weasley, it would be a million times better than whatever the hell that just was.


	15. Stargazing II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie's first year at Hogwarts comes to a close.

Luckily, exam week meant that Ronnie barely had time for anyone, especially not Cedric. She had waited until he’d fallen asleep to sneak back to her dorm, keeping a careful eye out for the rowdy in-house poltergeist, Peeves. They hadn’t bumped into each other yet, and she was hoping to keep it that way.

On the other hand, exam week also meant that Ronnie barely got to spend time with George, or Fred or Lee, for that matter, all of whom were busy taking their O.W.L.s. She’d wake up early, spend the morning studying, take her exams, then go back to her dorm and fall asleep. As Friday came and went, and Ronnie finally had taken her very last exam, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d officially survived her first year at Hogwarts.

Ronnie had expected there to be a party, some sort of celebration, but she quickly realized there would be no such thing. Students had been leaving school all week, as soon as they’d finished their exams. Only a handful had to stay until Friday afternoon, including both Fred and George. Harry, Ron, and Ginny had already left for the Burrow. Ronnie herself would be spending the next few weeks at Big Jim’s.

George was standing near the entrance of the Common Room. As soon as Ronnie made her way through the portrait hole, he scooped her up into a hug, spinning her around the room. She laughed.

“Put me down, Weasley.”

“No can do, Oxley.” He tightened his grip. “If I have to go three whole months without you, you have to be hugged for as long as I desire. And I desire a little bit longer.”

“I have to pack!” She swatted at his shoulder until he returned her to the ground. “My room’s a complete mess. And I’m sure you’ve got a bit of packing to do yourself. Your mum won’t be very happy with you if you’re late for the train.”

George feigned a pout. The string around Ronnie’s heart pulled even tighter.

“Fine then, after you pack? I’ll come back down, and we can hang out, okay?” He seemed satisfied with the solution, and Ronnie left him to his own devices, bounding up the stairs to her bedroom. She didn’t have very many decorations. While Ginny’s walls were plastered with posters, birthday cards, and photographs of her friends and family, Ronnie’s only held one bulletin board with Big Jim’s notes pinned up, along with a crude drawing George had done for her. She folded all of the notes, placing them at the very bottom of her trunk.

She packed her clothes and her books, leaving the fragile items for the very top. She carefully wrapped her frog figurine in her Gryffindor scarf, packing it tightly between two coats. By the time she had completely stripped her bedroom of all belongings, night had fallen, and the stars were twinkling through her window. She smiled, fondly remembering her first week at Hogwarts, when she and George had snuck out to the grounds to stare into the galaxies.

Clearly, George had been thinking the same thing. As she descended the stairs into the Common Room, she saw him standing with a cheeky smile, his arms wrapped around the quilt from his bed, his pockets bulging with miscellaneous sweets from Honeydukes. He grabbed her hand.

“Come on, let’s go.”

He pulled her through the portrait hole, and the two stalked through the empty corridors to the main entrance. Ronnie didn’t utter a word until they were safely outside.

“Feeling a little bit nostalgic, are we?” But George only smiled and continued walking, stopping at the very same spot on the hill outside the Quidditch pitch. He spread out the blanket and emptied his pockets, a dozen Chocolate Frogs bouncing onto the quilt. Ronnie took a seat.

“You said it yourself, kid. The stars are a constant. It’s comforting.” He leaned back, raising his arm to make room for Ronnie. She snuggled in closer to him, her head resting just over his beating heart. For a moment, the constant pulling and tugging on her heart stopped. She was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“I’m going to miss you,” Ronnie mumbled. “It won’t be the same, not without seeing you every day.”

“You know you’re always welcome at the Burrow, Ron,” George replied. “I’ll send you letters too, okay? You can come stay anytime you like.”

“I don’t know what my summer is going to look like,” Ronnie bit her lip. She had initially planned to spend the whole summer with Big Jim, but more and more letters from Benedict had arrived over the last few weeks. He clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I know what mine will,” George replied. “It’ll look a hell of a lot more lonely without you.”

“You’ll survive. You have plenty of siblings to keep you company. And Harry, right? Will he be at yours for the summer?”

“I’d be pretty bloody shocked if he wasn’t. Plus, I think he might be shagging my sister.” George scoffed.

“He definitely is,” Ronnie giggled. “But cut her some slack. You wouldn’t want her to be all in a fuss about you shagging anyone. Maybe you can do that over the summer.”

“Shag my sister?”

“Fucking gross, Weasley, no. Literally anybody else. They call it a summer fling for a reason, right?” But Ronnie immediately regretted bringing it up in the first place. The very idea of George shagging somebody else made her stomach hurt. She fixed her gaze on the sky above. “Look, there’s the Big Dipper.”

George tightened his hold on Ronnie, pulling her closer to his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and the two friends laid in silence, gazing up at the heavens above. Ronnie listened to the beating of his heart, and allowed herself to feel entirely at peace. 

“You really are my best friend, you know that right?” She tilted her head up to face him. He smiled down at her.

“Of course I know that, kid. You’re mine. Do you know that?”

Her heart fluttered.

“Yes, I know.”

“Life is bloody crazy, Oxley. But you make it a hell of a lot more bearable. So thanks for that.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Thanks for finally giving me someone other than Fred to talk to.”

“Oh shush, you have Lee.” Ronnie knew that she’d miss both Fred and Lee terribly. They weren’t George, but they were still some of her closest friends. The days would feel quite a bit emptier without Lee’s constant commentary and Fred’s raunchy flirtations.

“Lee’s not a pretty girl,” George rolled his eyes. His fingers made contact with her chin, tilting it up so that Ronnie was once again facing him. “But you are.”

The butterflies in her stomach began to flutter, but only for a moment. Instead, they were replaced by a heavy leaden feeling, as if a ten-ton weight had been dropped on her intestines. She averted her gaze as quickly as she could. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t worth ruining her friendship over. She couldn’t let her feelings get the best of her, even if it seemed like George was reciprocating them. She would not allow herself to lose him.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and cleared her throat, smiling nervously. “It’s getting pretty late, don’t you think? We should probably head back inside.”

George nodded, and Ronnie thought for a moment she could see a hint of rejection in his face. She fixed her gaze on the quilt beneath her.

“Sure, Ron. Let’s go.”

And so the two friends walked back towards the castle, both wishing they’d been brave enough to put it all on the line.


	16. Summer Correspondence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie receives letters over the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by Chapter 20 of All The Young Dudes.

Ronnie,

I fucking miss you! Harry’s here, and let me tell you, this summer has definitely been one for the books. Thank Merlin you taught me that contraceptive charm, because, bloody hell. I am having the BEST time.

Fred and George miss you, too. They won’t shut up about you. I think Mum is starting to get a little suspicious, especially about Fred. She thinks he’s got a crush on you. But I have to say, anybody with just a little bit of brain knows that it’s really George who has the hots for our Ronnie.

Write back when you can. I miss you.

Love, Ginny

-

Veronica,

I still haven’t received a reply from you about my wedding. It’s next month. Will you be able to make it? I really hope to hear from you soon. Do you need a new owl? You can send your response back with Prewett here.

Dad found out I invited you. He plans to write to you himself, apparently. Don’t let him discourage you from coming. I want you there, no matter what he says.

Talk soon.

Love, Benedict  
-

Ronnie,

Greetings from Paris! Fred and George told me you’d be staying nearby for the summer holidays. I figured the least I could do was write to you. Hogsmeade is no fun without us there.

I’ve included a Muggle photograph of the Eiffel Tower. I think you’d like it. It doesn’t move, but it’s still a nice shot. I’ve also sent you a keychain with your name on it. Isn’t that fun? I’ve never seen anything like that before.

See you soon.

Signed, Lee

-

Veronica,

You are to come to your brother’s wedding. It is not an option.

There will be consequences if you do not attend.

Father

-

Ronnie,

The Burrow is not the Burrow without you here. Who else am I supposed to play wizarding chess with? Fred? He’s certainly not as fun to look at.

Did you ever decide about your brother’s wedding? Are you still in Hogsmeade? How’s Big Jim? Maybe I can come spend the day with you soon. Throw rocks through the windows of the Shrieking Shack?

I miss you.

Love, George

-

Ronniekins,

Hurry up and write back to my brother. He’s pining after you, and it’s making me sick.

I hope you’re doing well. Miss you, kid.

Kissies, Freddie

-

Ronnie,

Did you arrive safely back home? Please write to me as soon as possible. I’m worried about you. That Muggle transportation can’t be trusted. I wish you would’ve just Apparated like I asked. So what if it hurts your stomach? There’s potions to remedy that.

Miss you around here. Have fun with your family.

Love, Big Jim

-

Ronnie,

Are you okay? You haven’t returned any of my letters, and Lee said he hasn’t heard from you either. Please write back.

George

-

Ronnie,

George is starting to worry about you, and so am I. None of us have gotten your letters. But you’ve been sending them, haven’t you?

If you’re busy, please just let us know. Mum says she’s going to track you down if you don’t respond soon, and trust me, you don’t want that.

Love, Ginny

-

Ronnie,

Do I need to call the authorities? How am I supposed to know those rotten people haven’t shipped you off to some convent? I’m running out of patience with you, girl.

Big Jim

-

Okay, Ronnie, this isn’t funny anymore. Fred and I went to visit Big Jim and he said he hasn’t heard from you either. He was not thrilled to learn that you haven't written any of us back either. He’s just about ready to call the authorities. 

Please, Ronnie. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. Just tell me that you’re safe, please.

George

-

Ronnie,

Your brother’s wedding is tomorrow. Are you with him?

You’re breaking my heart. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew something bad had happened to you. Please, darling. Just tell me you’re okay.

Love, George

-

Weasley Family,

Thank you for your concern. I am well.

Enjoy your summer,

Ronnie Oxley


	17. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benedict's wedding.

Ronnie carefully tucked each letter into the cardboard box, shoving it back underneath the rickety bed. She leaned her head back against the mattress, a few tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. She couldn’t deal with her friends today. She couldn’t tell them what she was going through. They wouldn’t understand.

George was the only one of her friends who knew about her brother and his wedding. She hadn’t told him about the letter from her father, because that would have required her to actually pick up a quill and send something to him, and she couldn’t bring herself to do that. She felt like she’d been sucked backwards. The year she’d spent at Hogwarts, befriending George, Lee, Fred, all of it felt like a dream. Now, she was back home in Connecticut, feeling more despondent than ever.

She was expected at the family manor any minute. She’d already changed into an appropriate navy blue dress, her hair curled loosely around her face. She hadn’t been invited to stay there. Instead, she had spent the past few days cramped in a dusty inn. She was almost positive she’d seen a rat or two hanging out near her trunk.

Ronnie didn’t want to be back. She didn’t want to think about everything that came with being back, everything she had tried so hard to move on from in the past year. She wanted to think about George, and her friends, and all the great times she’d had and would have again. All she needed to do was get through this wedding, and it would be done. She could do it.

She pushed herself to her feet, slung her purse over her shoulder, and took a deep breath. With her wand clasped between her fingers, she muttered the incantation and felt herself being sucked away, her stomach lurching and folding as her body moved from the inn to the grounds just outside her family manor. Landing in front of the main gates, she took a moment to gaze at the massive estate. The string on her heart pulled once more. She shouldn’t be here. She should be at the Burrow, with George and the rest of the Weasleys. This felt wrong.

The gardens had been decorated for the wedding; a long white aisle separated rows and rows of chairs, leading towards a wooden archway covered in flowers. Just behind the gardens, Ronnie could make out the reception area. A large tent had been erected, providing shelter to the many round tables hidden underneath. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her brother’s life, yet Ronnie could not have felt more miserable. 

Guests were streaming in through the gates, chattering excitedly with each other about the new mister and misses to be. Ronnie allowed herself to be swept in by the crowd, trying her best to remain inconspicuous, unrecognizable. A part of her knew nobody would want to speak with her anyways. Many of them shared the same feelings as her dear old mother and father.

Ronnie took a seat on the left side of the aisle near the back, crossed one leg over the other, and waited. She did not look around at the other guests, she did not search the crowd for anyone she recognized. As her heart continued to beat faster and faster, she reached into the bust of her dress and removed one of George’s letters, the one she kept close by at all times. The Burrow is not the Burrow without you here. I miss you.

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, allowing the sounds of the wedding to drown out. She tried to focus on Hogwarts, on being back home. She tried to focus on the Burrow, on her friends. Anything to keep her heart rate down. She took a deep breath.

**

_She was just about to make contact with the door handle. She was so close, so, so, close, when she felt him. His hands wrapped around her neck and yanked her backwards, her body collapsing onto the ground, the back of her skull smacking into the wooden floor beneath her. As her conscience swum in and out, she saw him step over her, looking down at her with his sickening grin. And then, everything was black._

**

Ronnie opened her eyes again, only to notice that the majority of the guests had taken their seats. She spotted the familiar figures of her mother and father near the front, took another deep breath, and waited for the wedding to begin.

-

As guests milled about the reception area, Ronnie took the time to survey her old home. She wrapped her fingers around her glass of champagne, her mind keeping a mental tab of her wands whereabouts at all times. She strolled around the manor, observing the way the rose bushes were trimmed, remembering how she and Benedict used to play hide and seek near the garden shed. It didn’t make her feel happy or nostalgic. She just felt sick.

She was making her way back to the reception when a figure stopped her. The woman was wearing an elaborate dark blue dress, her hair coiffed to perfection. Her mouth was a tight line, her eyebrows furrowed in that same familiar way. Ronnie gulped.

“Veronica,” the woman’s voice was icy, like nails on a chalkboard. Ronnie felt her throat constrict. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

“Hello, Mother,” Ronnie replied defensively. “I hope you’re well.”

“Oh, I am well. I’m well. Though you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? All the way in, where is it, Britain?” She stressed the last word with disgust. Ronnie fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Yes, Mother. Britain.”

“And how is that working for you? Have you been making friends? Or have they all realized that you’re nothing but a sorry, whorish waste of space?” A sinister smile came to the woman’s lips. Ronnie sighed and moved to push past her, but the woman grabbed her wrist.

“I’m going back to the reception, Mother.”

“You will do no such thing.” The smile had disappeared. Instead, the woman’s voice was low and harsh. She leaned forward. “You have a lot of nerve coming here.”

“I was asked to come here.”

“By who? Benedict? Last time I checked, he doesn’t make the rules, you stupid girl.”

Ronnie braced herself. “Father asked me to come, too.”

“Must’ve been a mistake,” Ronnie’s mother sighed dramatically. “Or, I suppose he was doing it for Benedict. He’s such a good son, you know.”

“Yes, Mother, I know.”

“Well, you’ve made an appearance, so I think it’s time you move on. Here,” her mother pushed a small cloth bag into her hands. From the weight and size, Ronnie could tell it was full of galleons. “That should be enough to keep you away for another few years.”

“I’m not leaving without congratulating Benedict,” Ronnie shot back. She had come all the way here for him. She had to at least see him.

“I suppose you’re still just as stupid as I’d remembered. Get out of here, Veronica. And don’t come back. You aren’t wanted here, no matter what your brother tells you.” Her mother spit in her direction, narrowly missing the hem of Ronnie’s dress. Ronnie gave her mother one last glare, before wrapping her fingers around her wand and Apparating back to the inn.

She was burning with anger the second she landed in her room. She let out a scream, burying her face into her pillow. She couldn’t believe this. She’d put herself on the line to come back for Benedict’s wedding, and she hadn’t even had the chance to congratulate him. Her mother had to ruin everything. She always did.

Ronnie strode to the writing desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. Reaching for a quill, she hastily scribbled a note and left it in the room, with instructions for the house-elfs to send it immediately. And with that, she quickly packed her trunk, wrapped her fingers around her wand, and was sucked away.

_Georgie,_

_I’m going back to Hogsmeade. Come see me as soon as you get this letter._

_I miss you, too._

_Love, Ronnie_


	18. Missed Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie heads back to Hogwarts for her second year.

July turned into August, and still George did not come. Ronnie waited in the pub each day, hoping, praying that the bell would jingle, and she could run back into his arms and feel whole again. She played chess with Big Jim, took her morning strolls through the village, and even threw a few rocks into the windows of the Shrieking Shack by herself. But still, George did not come.

He never wrote her back, either. Ronnie didn’t have an owl of her own, but she waited hopefully for Errol, the Weasley family’s bird, each and every day, just as she waited for George himself. Big Jim suggested she write him again, but it felt all too humiliating to do so. He would’ve written back, she told herself. If he cared about her, he would have come.

She spent the next several weeks wondering what she’d done wrong. Wondering if the rejection she’d seen in his face on the last day of term was enough to end their friendship all together. Wondering if, by trying not to ruin the good thing she had, she had pushed George too far away. Wondering if he was ever going to come back to her.

Her heart ached all the time. No matter where she was standing, what she was doing, she felt the constant pulling. She sat at her desk, an empty piece of parchment in front of her, and tried to come up with something to say to him. In the corner of the room lay a discarded pile of hastily scribbled notes.

_Did you get my letter? Please write back. Love, Ronnie._

__

_I went to Benedict’s wedding, and I got kicked out. I’m home now. Please come see me. Ronnie._

__

_Georgie, did I do something to upset you? I’m sorry. I really am. Love, Ronnie._

__

_My life isn’t my life without you in it, George._

__

_I never meant to hurt you by not replying. I couldn’t stand to talk to anyone._

__

_Please, George. Write back._

__

_I miss you._

__

_I miss you._

__

_I miss you._

__

_I love you._

As she used up the very last bit of her parchment, Ronnie gathered the discard notes and set the pile on fire. She watched victoriously as each and every scratch of her quill burned into nothingness, allowing her sadness to go up in flames with them. She would be okay. She would prepare for the start of term, she would go to Hogwarts, and she would pretend like nothing was wrong.

The start of the term was approaching rapidly, and Ronnie spent the rest of her time shopping in Diagon Alley and studying her books. She wanted to keep her grades up, just as she had the year prior. She was starting her fifth year, and she’d be taking her O.W.L exams. Fred and George had mysteriously passed with great marks, and Ronnie knew she could settle for no less for herself.

The first day of term, Ronnie was interrupted from her reading by a loud shouting from downstairs. She couldn’t quite make out the words, but she knew that Big Jim was calling her. She pushed herself off of her bed and bounded down the stairs, curiosity flowing through her veins.

Standing in the pub, looking quite out of place compared to Big Jim, was Ginny. She squealed when she saw Ronnie, striding over excitedly to embrace her. Ronnie threw her arms around her roommate, hugging her tightly. She pulled back, a large smile spread across her face.

“Ginny! What are you doing here?”

Ginny rolled her eyes playfully. 

“What do you mean? You disappear all summer and all we get in return is a lousy vague note? Of course I was coming to see you. But I had to wait until Mum and Dad were out of the house. They told me I shouldn’t go off to Hogsmeade all alone.”

Ronnie was beyond happy to see her friend, but she furrowed her brows at Ginny’s words. She had written to them after the wedding. They’d received more than just a flimsy note.

“I wrote George,” Ronnie replied, puzzled. “I wrote to him weeks ago. He never wrote back.”

Now, Ginny had the same puzzled expression. She stared at Ronnie with confusion.

“What are you talking about? George never received any note from you. He’d been locked up in his room all summer. When your weird note addressed to all of us came, he started going out a lot. But he never received any other note, I’m sure of it.”

Ronnie felt her stomach go numb. Could that have been it? Had the house-elves at the inn just never sent her letter? Had it gotten lost in transit? Was it possible that George hadn’t been ignoring her after all?

“I thought he was upset with me,” Ronnie replied softly. “He never wrote back. I asked him to come visit, and he never did.”

“Oh, get off it,” Ginny punched Ronnie’s arm playfully. “You know he’d drop whatever he was doing to see you. He didn’t receive it, that’s all.” Ronnie felt a sense of relief at Ginny’s words, but she couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t come with her, if he missed her so much. Something felt off.

“Anyways, Mum and Dad were off to Romania a few nights ago, so I figured I’d stay here this afternoon, and we could go to Hogwarts together? If that’s okay with you.” She beamed. Ronnie looked over at Big Jim, who nodded.

“Anything for the nice people, Ronnie, you know that.”

Ronnie spent the afternoon showing Ginny around Hogsmeade. Though both girls had been there several times together, there were sections of the village that Ronnie had discovered on her own time, such as the pond behind the Shrieking Shack and the best scones sold by an old woman out of her own cottage. She was happy to have someone with her, even if it wasn’t George.

Returning back to Ronnie’s room, Ginny plopped down on the dusty bed, watching as Ronnie continued to pack the rest of her belongings. She fell quiet as Ronnie rewrapped her frog from George, carefully sliding it between her robes. Ronnie noticed.

“What’s wrong, Gin?”

“Ronnie.” Her voice was nervous. “There’s, er, something that I’ve got to tell you.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Um, well—”

Ginny was interrupted by Big Jim knocking on the door. It was time to leave for school.

“You can tell me later,” Ronnie replied, reaching for her trunk with a smile.

Big Jim insisted on walking the two of them to Hogwarts, helpfully lugging Ginny’s trunk despite her protests. He bid them goodbye at the gates, allowing them to catch up with the other students who had just gotten off of the Hogwarts Express.

Ginny waited patiently as Big Jim gave her another hug and kiss, warned her to be on her best behavior, and promised to write. The two girls then made their way into the crowd.

“Ronnie, I really have to tell you something.”

“Sure, Gin, oh wait, George, George!” Ronnie had spotted the familiar ginger head, towering over the rest of the students. He turned around at once, looking for the source of his name, a cheeky grin spreading across his face when his eyes landed on Ronnie. She rushed towards him, Ginny following her closely, and wrapped her arms around him.

“Oh, George, I’ve missed you so much!”

He chuckled, but Ronnie noticed immediately that he wasn’t hugging her back. She pulled away for a moment, just to double-check that she did in fact have the right twin, when someone caught her eye. A tall blonde girl wearing a Gryffindor scarf was standing next to him, her face pinched into a scowl. Ronnie heard Ginny curse under her breath.

“Oh, hi,” Ronnie stretched out a hand. “I’m Ronnie.”

“I know,” the girl spit back. Ronnie looked nervously at Ginny, who averted her gaze. She turned to George, who was looking very sorry to be in the position he was.

“Ronnie, I, um. This is Katie Bell. My girlfriend.”


	19. Saved By the Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie reflects on her feelings for George.

“I, um, what?”

Ronnie’s cheeks flushed red. George looked at her with a sad smile, but Katie would have none of it. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, leaving Ronnie and Ginny alone. Ginny rested her hand on Ronnie’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Ronnie, that’s what I wanted to tell you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

Ronnie was still shocked, the cogs in her brain turning quicker and quicker as she tried to make sense of what George was saying. On the very last day of term, he’d leaned in to kiss her. When she’d gotten her letter, she’d leaned in to kiss him. And now, he had a girlfriend.

This was good, she reminded herself. He was happy. Their friendship could continue. The news may have come as a shock, but Katie may have very well been her friendship’s saving grace. She no longer had to worry about watching herself, about refusing to allow herself to succumb to her feelings. This was good.

But whether it was good or not, Ronnie was still surprised how much it hurt. She felt the string around her heart tighten, to the point that she was sure it was bound to snap. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and gave Ginny a weak smile.

“No, that’s okay. This is good.”

“Good?” Ginny pulled her forward so the two girls were walking again. They’d fallen quite behind from the rest of the crowd. She tucked a piece of dark hair behind Ronnie’s ear. “What do you mean good?”

“It’s good that he’s happy, don’t you think?”

“Wait, you don’t like him?”

Ginny pulled Ronnie to a stop just outside the Entrance Hall. She stared at her, as though the intense eye contact would cause Ronnie to crack. But she didn’t have anything to hide. She was telling Ginny the truth.

“I do,” she mumbled. “How could I not? But I rejected him.”

“You did WHAT? When?”

“On the last day of term, he tried to kiss me, and I leaned away. And I think I hurt his feelings.” Ronnie buried her face in her hands. “But you have to understand. He’s my best friend. And I would never do anything to ruin that friendship.”

Ginny was laughing now.

“Ronnie, but there’s no reason to worry! He likes you too, I told you that in my letters, if you even got them. But I didn’t have to tell you that. Anyone with eyes could see how much he cares about you.”

“It’s just, I had a relationship, before I came here. We started as friends. And then, everything was horrible. And I can’t do that with George.” She could feel tears starting to leak from her eyes. 

“Oh, no, Ronnie, don’t cry,” Ginny pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“When did this happen? Why didn’t he write to me and tell me?”

“I don’t really know,” Ginny replied. “After that letter came from you, he assumed you didn’t want to talk to him. So I guess he went out and tried to make the best of the summer. But I know he was still thinking about you. Fred said he heard him crying really late at night.”

Ronnie’s stomach dropped. She had made George cry. She had been a selfish, horrible friend. It was her fault that George now had Katie.

“She doesn’t seem to like me much,” Ronnie mumbled. “He’s still my best friend.”

“Of course he is,” cooed Ginny. “But well, he talks about you a lot. And we all knew that, but Katie isn’t used to it yet. She’s a little, jealous, I guess. You might have to give her time.”

“I guess I can do that,” Ronnie replied. She allowed Ginny to lead her into the Great Hall, choosing instead to sit with her and her friends as opposed to the twins and Lee. She glanced down the table just once, only to see George laughing happily, his arm slung around Katie’s shoulder, her blonde hair leaning into his chest. Ronnie felt a pang of jealousy.

Everything she had been looking forward to all summer, seeing George, spending time with Lee and Fred pulling pranks, it was all different now. And it was all because she hadn’t written him back. Ronnie tried to convince herself otherwise, that it was silly to assume George based his personal affairs solely off of whether or not Ronnie wrote back to him, but she couldn’t imagine any other reason why he wouldn’t have told her about Katie. Why he would even be dating Katie in the first place.

Ginny tried to be as comforting as possible by including her in the conversations with her friends, but Ronnie wasn’t in the mood to talk. She watched quietly as the first-years were sorted, ate her meal in silence, and hurried back up to the Gryffindor Tower as soon as possible. She wanted to unpack, to go to bed. She wanted to stop thinking about George, and all the things he’d be doing to Katie. Things she had so selfishly wanted for herself.

She took a moment in the empty Common Room, falling into one of the plush armchairs. She thought about Katie. About how she was practically perfect for George. Ronnie knew that she was on the Quidditch team with him, and she was a sixth-year as well. She was beautiful, and funny, and generally kind (or so Ronnie hoped). And she likely had a normal family, and always responded to her mail. Ronnie tried so hard to hate her, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t hate someone who clearly made George happy.

Ronnie found the empty Common Room quite relaxing. She allowed herself to space out, gazing into the fire, thinking about how relieved she was to be back at Hogwarts. She didn’t even hear the portrait swing open at first, only snapping back as Fred and Lee tackled her from either side in a rough hug. She laughed.

“Down, boys!”

Fred rested on the arm of the chair, his arm leaning back around Ronnie. Lee mirrored him on the other side.

“How are you, darling Ronniekins?” Fred asked with a wink.

“I’m good, I’m well,” Ronnie replied. “How are you?”

“I’d be a hell of a lot better if you’d returned any of our letters,” Fred returned. “And then maybe we wouldn’t have to be dealing with that.” He jerked his head to the side of the room. Ronnie turned to look, only to see George’s back pinned up against the wall, Katie kissing him furiously. She averted her gaze immediately.

“It was a hard summer,” Ronnie mumbled. “I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Understandable,” Lee piped up. “Don’t worry about them, either. They won’t last.”

“Why would you say that? George is your friend!” Ronnie looked at the boy with a shocked expression, but Lee only laughed.

“Because, little Ronniekins, we know things. And we know that the real person for George is you. Katie’s just a distraction.”

“And don’t worry, we’ll distract her,” Fred winked.

“You’d better not. Don’t mess with them, they’re happy.”

“No promises!” Fred planted a kiss on Ronnie’s head before leaping off of the chair, whooping and hollering with Lee all the way to the boys’ dormitory.


	20. Katie's the Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie finally bumps into George.

Despite what Ginny had said, Katie did not warm up to Ronnie. For the first week of the term, Ronnie attempted to give the couple some distance, choosing to spend her free time with Lee and Fred instead. She had hoped that George would come around and start including her again, but it was yet to happen. Each time Ronnie saw George on his own, Katie would materialize out of nowhere and whisk him away.

She felt a constant sense of loneliness. Though she was spending more time with Fred and Lee, and had also gotten to know Luna a bit better, none of them were proper replacements for George. He was, after all, her very best friend, even if he was currently busy with somebody else. She’d wait, and she’d be there for him when he finally made the time.

In the meantime, Ronnie found herself reconnecting with Cedric. He was, at the very least, somebody to talk to. She hadn’t slept with him again, not since that night, but she could tell he was itching to get her into bed. He was constantly flirting with her, inviting her over after hours, and hanging out with her in the library. Ronnie usually had a good excuse for not showing up to his dorm, but she did appreciate the company, even if it was Cedric.

During the third week of the term, Ronnie finally bumped into George on his way to Quidditch practice, no Katie in sight. She surveyed the hallway for any sign of her before turning to her friend. He offered her a smile, but it wasn’t his normal happy go-lucky grin. He looked tired, a little bit sad, and far too sorry for his own good.

“Erm, how are you?” Ronnie asked, realizing at once just how awkward it was to talk to him. She’d been back at Hogwarts for three weeks, and she’d barely gotten in a word with him, aside from a ‘hi’ here and there as they passed each other in the hallway. It was as though she’d completely fallen off of his radar, whereas he’d only grown more and more prevalent in her mind.

“I’m good, Ron, you?”

“I’m okay. I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” George winked at her, but it lacked the same charm it usually had. He kept looking nervously down the hallway, as though expecting to be caught any minute. Caught doing what, Ronnie wasn’t entirely sure.

“Right, but you’ve got Katie now. I feel like I barely see you.”

“Yeah,” George looked sheepishly to the floor. “Yeah, she’s something. Look, I’ve got to run, okay? But I miss you too, kid. We’ll hang out soon, I promise.”

“Bye, Georgie,” Ronnie waved to the boy as he jogged down the hallway towards the Entrance Hall. The string around her heart gave a sudden lurch, and Ronnie felt herself stumble forward, garnering a few odd looks from nearby students. She smiled at them awkwardly before hurrying back to the Gryffindor Tower.

Ronnie burst straight into Ginny’s room, only to find her buried under a very disheveled-looking and shirtless Harry, who gasped and immediately tried to cover himself. Ginny only laughed, her eyes coming to land on the girl standing by the bathroom.

“You okay, Ronnie?”

“Harry, get out,” Ronnie mumbled, moving her way over to the bed and getting under the covers. Ginny scooted over to give her more room.

“Hey, what are you doing? We were busy!” Harry protested, but Ronnie only shot him another look, and he sheepishly left the room. She buried herself even further under Ginny’s quilt.

“Ronnie, what’s wrong?”

Ronnie let out a loud groan.

“Katie’s wrong. Katie fucking Bell is what’s wrong.”

Ginny sighed, pushing herself up into a seated position. She patted Ronnie on the knee.

“I figured.”

“It wouldn’t even bother me,” Ronnie uncovered her head from underneath the blanket. “If he was still George. But he’s not. He doesn’t talk to me anymore, because she’s always with him. I miss him, and I feel like I don’t have my best friend anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, Ronnie. I wish there was something I could do about it. I know Fred and Lee had been slipping Dung Bombs into her dorm, but they had to stop when she tattled on them to George.”

“I just wish she’d be nicer,” Ronnie mumbled. “And give me a chance to show her that I only want to be friends with George.”

“But do you?”

“Well, there’s not really any other options at the moment,” Ronnie replied. “So yes, I’d rather be best friends with him than nothing at all.”

“Could you tell him that?”

“I bumped into him in the hallway, and it was like he couldn’t wait to get away from me. I think he was worried Katie would catch him talking to me, and that wouldn’t be very good, would it?”

“No, I suppose not.” Ginny smoothed down Ronnie’s flyaways. “Maybe you could find someone to help you take your mind off of George, at least for a little while?”

“Well, I have Cedric.”

“Cedric Diggory? I knew you weren’t going to the Hufflepuff Common Room to study.”

“No, I didn’t,” Ronnie laughed. “He’s not very good in bed, but at least he isn’t George.”

“See? There you go!” Ginny’s eyes lit up. “Wait, what about the party on Friday? You could go with Cedric, or you could come with me and find somebody there to hang out with!”

“The party?” Once again, Ronnie was completely out of the loop.

“Yeah, there’s one happening in the Room of Requirement!” Ginny watched her excitedly. Since that first night, Ronnie had since been to several Room of Requirement parties, and they were all great fun. She found herself feeling better by the minute.

“Oh, that sounds like so much fun! I’d love to.”

“Yay!” Ginny threw her arms around Ronnie. “And don’t let George get you down. If anything, this is your chance to make him jealous.” She winked, and the two girls burst out into laughter.


	21. Here We Go Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie attends another Room of Requirement party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains elements that may be triggering to some readers. Discretion is advised.

Ronnie accepted Ginny’s invitation and attended the party with her and Harry, who was a little reluctant to share his new girlfriend. Ronnie, however, promised that she’d go off on her own as soon as they reached the Room of Requirement, and only needed Ginny’s help to do her eyeliner. She opted for a much tamer outfit than the year prior, finding a lacy black top and white jeans a lot more suitable for her current position. With George clearly tied down, she had nobody she needed to impress.

The Room of Requirement had been set up in the exact same way as the first party Ronnie attended, with the empty bar in the back and the large dance floor right in the middle. It always looked the same; the only aspects of the room that changed for parties were the various decorations. Tonight, the windows had been enchanted to show the various planets, zipping back and forth as if the entire room was hurtling through the galaxy. Ronnie couldn’t help but gaze around in amazement.

She bid goodbye to Harry and Ginny, making her way across the room to the bar in the back. Instead of screaming at the wood as Lee had done, Ronnie politely asked the table in front of her to pour her a drink, and thanked it kindly when it obliged. She took her glass of Firewhiskey and found a comfortable seat in the corner of the room, just shadowed enough for her to remain mainly unnoticed whilst still being able to watch the dancers. She sipped her drink and allowed the excitement of the party to wash over her.

Ronnie had just finished her drink when she saw Cedric striding up to her, holding two glasses in his hands. He slid into the seat next to her, threw his arm around her shoulder, and handed her one of the drinks. She took it gratefully.

“Thanks, Cedric,” she replied, sipping the burning Firewhiskey. It tasted familiar, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

“Anything for you, Oxley. You been here long?” Cedric sipped his own drink, flashing Ronnie a smile over the rim of his glass.

“Not long. Only long enough to know that I’m dying to get out there.” She stood, extending her hand towards Cedric, her head jerking in the direction of the dance floor. “Join me?”

“Oh, definitely.” Cedric took her hand, and allowed Ronnie to lead him to the center of the room. She turned around, his hands gripping her waist, and found herself melting into him, the sounds and colors all blending into one. She swayed her hips back and forth, a familiar sensation lowering over her like a veil. She leaned her head back, tilted Cedric’s chin to the side, and kissed him.

She was distracted only by Ginny giving her a small tug on the arm, and mouthing something that looked very much like the word ‘bathroom.’ Ronnie nodded, waved slightly towards Cedric, and allowed Ginny to pull her out of the room. She stumbled several times in the hallway, grabbing onto Ginny’s arm for support.

“Wow, Ronnie, are you alright? You look like you had a little bit too much to drink.”

“Sss’okay,” Ronnie slurred, confused as to why her words weren’t coming out correctly. She splashed some water on her face while Ginny used the restroom, trying to figure out why she felt so strange, but so familiar. The flashing lights and loud music were a welcoming comfort as the two girls made their way back into the party, Ginny promising to keep a watchful eye on her friend in case she got into any trouble. Ronnie laughed, but it came out garbled.

Cedric found her almost immediately. By then, Ronnie was having a hard time standing, and insisted dancing the strange feeling away.

“I don’t know, Ronnie, you’re not looking too good. Maybe we should get you back to your room.”

“Nuhh,” Ronnie replied, pulling Cedric back towards the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Katie grinding her hips up against George, and quickly averted her gaze. She pushed herself into Cedric and tried to sway with the music, but she was finding it harder and harder to stand, to move, to speak. Someone snapped a picture on one side of her, the flash momentarily shielding her vision.

And then it hit her.

“George,” she mumbled, but Cedric only wrapped his arms around her.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

He began to move her towards the exit, keeping her steady with his arms, but Ronnie stopped in her tracks, nearly tumbling over from the force of Cedric’s pulling.

“George, where’s George?”

“Ronnie, you’re drunk. Come on.” Cedric’s tone had a bit of a bite to it.

“Nuhh, not drunk. George.”

Cedric rolled his eyes at her and tried to scoop her up, but Ronnie pushed him away.

“Ronnie, stop fighting me, I’m trying to help you!”

“George!”

He tightened his grip around her wrist, moving quickly towards the exit. Ronnie’s eyes widened, and she searched frantically for anyone she knew, a sense of relief flooding through her body when she saw the approaching blonde head of Luna. She reached out her arm and grabbed the witch’s shirt as Cedric pulled her forward.

“Loon, find George, need help,” she mumbled. Luna looked at her with great big eyes, her focus darting between Ronnie and Cedric. Ronnie felt herself growing frustrated. She needed her to understand.

“George, find George, roof,” she mumbled again, but Luna only stared.

“Roof, roof,” Ronnie scrunched up her face, trying as hard as she could to speak clearly as the room around her began fading into black. “Roofied.”

Luna finally understood, her eyes widening with horror. She nodded, turned on her heel, and ran to the back of the room. Ronnie watched her hopefully, praying that she’d make it in time, as Cedric forced her out of the exit, the Room of Requirement disappearing behind her.

Ronnie continued to push Cedric off of her, but he was much stronger and completely sober. He half-supported her, half-dragged her away from the Room of Requirement, his voice cold and bitter.

“Stop fighting me, you stupid slut.” He laughed. “Could’ve just fucked me earlier, and there would’ve been no need for all of this. But nope, you had to make it hard for yourself.”

Ronnie moved to kick Cedric as hard as she could, but there was no need. Something had collided with his face, and his grip on Ronnie released. She tumbled over, only to be scooped up by a pair of strong arms. Craning her neck, she saw Lee holding her up.

“Shit, Ronnie, are you okay?”

But Ronnie didn’t answer. She turned her attention back towards Cedric, only to see two very ginger boys wailing on him, their fists making repeated contact with his face. Ronnie could hear the obscenities they were screaming, mixed in with the pleading shouts of Katie, who had been standing by the door, begging George to lay off. But neither twin backed away from Cedric until he was good and bloody.

“You stupid fucker!” George yelled. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re girlfriend’s a useless whore!” Cedric propped himself up on his elbows, wincing in the pain. George knocked him down immediately, his eyes wild.

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Call. Her. That. She’s worth twenty of you put together.” With one final punch, George backed off, his arms wrapping around Ronnie. “Merlin, Ronnie, are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“She’ll be alright,” Lee replied. “She’s drugged, but she can sleep it off. She should be fine.”

“Thank Merlin we got here in time,” Fred rubbed the bruises on his knuckles, watching as Cedric pulled himself up and dashed out of the hallway towards the Hufflepuff dorms. “That scumbag Diggory, I always knew he couldn’t be trusted.”

“George,” Ronnie mumbled, her face buried in his shirt.

“Look, I’m going to take her back to her room,” George said, wrapping his arms around Ronnie and lifting her off the ground.

“What?” Katie piped in, turning the attention back towards the Room of Requirement door. “Why can’t they do it?” She motioned towards Fred and Lee.

“Sure, no problem,” Lee replied, reaching for Ronnie, but George moved away.

“No, I’ll take her.”

“Merlin, George, they said she’d do it! She’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go back into the party.”

But George did not move. Katie watched him with surprise.

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said, her voice low, her jaw clenched. George lowered Ronnie back to the ground, pushing her into Lee’s arms, before striding across the hallway towards Katie. He stopped, inches away from her, his fists clenched.

“You and me, we’ve been hanging out for a few months. She’s my best friend. She’s always going to come first.”

He gave her one last poisoned look before turning his back, taking Ronnie back into his arms, and disappearing around the corner.


	22. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie recovers from the party.

“Okay, Ronnie, you’re alright.”

George laid her down onto her bed, stretching out his arms and catching his breath. He’d carried her up several flights of stairs and all the way into the fifth-year wing. His muscles ached from the strain, but he couldn’t have cared less. His only concern was the mess of a girl in front of him, who’d passed out only seconds after leaving the hallway. She rolled onto her back with a groan, her eyes blinking open.

“George,” her voice was clearer. “Cedric, he drugged me.”

“Shh, I know. It’s okay, nothing happened. Luna got to us in time.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, his fingers stroking through Ronnie’s hair. She closed her eyes. There was a pounding ache in her head.

“Water,” she mumbled, waiting patiently for George to fetch her a glass and fill it up. She sipped it, focusing on clearing away the pain from her skull. She looked lovingly towards George, who smiled back. Ronnie could tell he was concerned.

“How’d you know?”

“What?”

“How’d you know he drugged you?” George asked, swinging his legs up onto the bed. He wrapped an arm around Ronnie and pulled her closer, burying his nose in her hair. She was safe. He had gotten there in time.

“I saw you and Katie dancing, and then I saw the flash of a camera, and I just realized. I’d been feeling weird all night, like I’d felt this way before, and I couldn’t figure out why. But I saw that flash, and it was like everything made sense,” she swallowed. “Everything came back.”

George pulled her closer.

“I’m sorry about her. About Katie.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“But I am. Ginny said you wrote to me after your brother’s wedding. I never got it. Ronnie, if I had, things could’ve been different.”

“Don’t say that,” Ronnie mumbled. “Everything is okay. I just want my best friend back.”

“And you have me. You’ll always have me, okay? I promise.”

Ronnie wrapped her arm around George’s middle, his heart beating rhythmically in her ear. She felt herself falling asleep.

“I should probably get back to my room,” George replied, pushing himself up ever so slightly. Ronnie, however, pulled him back down. She placed her head back over his heart.

“Please stay,” she mumbled. “I don’t want to be alone, not right now.”

“Okay.” George kissed her head once more and re-tightened his grip. “Goodnight, Ronnie.”

-

George wasn’t there when Ronnie woke up. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, she realized it was past noon. She’d been sleeping for far too long.

Pushing herself into a seated position, Ronnie rubbed her temples in an attempt to dispel the building pressure. She no longer felt sleepy as she had the night before, but she felt weak and hungry. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, readjusted her weight, and promptly vomited onto the floor. With a flick of her wand, the mess disappeared, and she headed into the bathroom for a cold shower.

She knew that George had spent the night with her, and that he’d saved her from going home with Cedric. But she couldn’t remember exactly what had happened with Katie. She couldn’t seem to remember if they were still together.

Her questions were answered as soon as she entered the Great Hall, her hair still wet from the shower. She noticed immediately that Katie was sitting back in her normal spot with Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, looking up only to scowl harshly in Ronnie’s direction. She averted her gaze, searching instead for the twins and Lee. She slid into a seat next to George, her stomach lurching with a mixture of hunger and nausea.

“Ronnie!” Lee exclaimed. “How are you feeling?”

“Nasty fight you put up there, kid,” Fred commended with a wink. Ronnie rolled her eyes.

“I’m feeling well, thank you. And thanks, but I would’ve been fucked if you hadn’t listened to Luna. Really, I can’t express how appreciative I am.”

“Oh, any time,” Fred replied. “And hey, you got those two to split up,” he jerked his head towards George. “So, I think I owe you one.”

“Right,” Ronnie replied, blushing. She turned to face George, who was looking at her with a sincere smile. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he said, snaking his arm around her waist. “I’ll choose you every time.”

She leaned her head onto his shoulder, her wet hair leaving a mark on his robes. But she couldn’t care less. She had her friend back, and everything was as it should be again.

“Tell you what,” Fred began. “It’s a beautiful day, and we desperately need to practice. Quidditch anyone?”

“Why, of course!” Lee replied, beaming. Although he served as the team’s commentator, he was an excellent Chaser. Ronnie had learned that one day listening to George drone on and on about the sport and all of his favorite players. He always said that Lee would be unstoppable if he ever decided to try out.

“Why the desperate need to practice?” Ronnie asked, her eyelids still heavy with sleep. “Last time I checked, you were doing pretty damn well.”

“There’s a game on Friday, against Slytherin,” George began. “We lost the Quidditch Cup to them last year. It’s redemption time.” He winked, and Ronnie smiled. She remembered Gryffindor losing the Quidditch Cup; it came with a very sulky George and a very grumpy Fred. She definitely didn’t want to go through that again.

“Ronnie, play with us,” Fred mumbled through a mouthful of toast, spraying Lee with bits of breadcrumbs. Ronnie reached for a piece herself, hoping it would be enough to calm her stomach. She nibbled the corner.

“No, Ronnie, you really shouldn’t,” George replied, a look of great concern spreading across his face. He tightened his grip around her. “Just watch, okay?”

“Okay,” Ronnie said, trying her best to keep all of her toast crumbs in her mouth.

“Oh, come on, Georgie, let her have some fun,” Fred teased, but George shot him a look that could cut through steel. All three boys knew that Ronnie had been roofied by Cedric the night prior, but only George knew that it wasn’t the first time she’d ever been drugged. Ronnie was thankful for his protection; she wasn’t really feeling up to playing in the first place. Her stomach still ached and her head pounded, and all she really wanted to do was crawl back into bed. But she offered Fred a lighthearted smile.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind watching.”

Ronnie followed the three boys out to the Quidditch pitch, taking a seat in the stands. Fred had been right; it was a beautiful day, if a little bit cold. She quickly casted a warming charm over her, got herself comfortable, and fixed her gaze on the sky.

She did hope that she’d be able to play with them one day. She watched with excitement as Fred, George, and Lee zoomed through the sky, dodging Bludgers and flipping through the hoops. She caught Fred trying to show off as usual, but she found herself watching Lee most of the time. He was truly an excellent player, even on unevenly-matched teams. Playing against both twins himself, he was certainly giving them a run for their money.

Ronnie had no doubts in her mind that the Gryffindors would beat the Slytherins in the upcoming game. She continued to munch her toast, kicked her feet up onto the bench in front of her, and daydreamed about how much fun the afterparty would be.


	23. The Truth Always Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George lets something spill.

Life mainly returned to normal after the party. George was back to following Ronnie around, pelting her with spare pieces of parchment, and seeing just how close he could get to her after Quidditch practice before she pushed him away and sent him to the showers. Classes were coming along just as well as they had before, and Ronnie was managing to grasp the material pretty well. She was paying significantly more attention this year; she wanted to do good on her O.W.L.s

The days dragged on. By Wednesday afternoon, Ronnie was sick and tired of hearing about the Slytherin Quidditch team, and would much rather the boys left it alone until the actual game. They practiced twice a day, with Ronnie sometimes watching after her classes. Therefore, when she heard the loud knocking on her dorm that evening, she was expecting to have to listen to more of George’s venting.

She was definitely surprised to see not only George, but Fred and Lee, followed by Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She stepped to the side to allow the group in, her heart beating faster and faster in her chest.

“Um, hi everyone. Is everything okay?”

George strode across the room and flopped onto her bed.

“Yeah, Ron, everything’s fine.”

Fred, on the other hand, began banging on the bathroom door, calling for Ginny. She appeared moments later, her hair tousled from sleep. She yawned.

“What do you want? I was sleeping.”

“We’ve brought favors.” Fred pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey from behind his back with a laugh. With a flick of his wand, he materialized several glasses and placed them onto the floor, sitting down on the outer edge of a newly-formed circle. Ginny took a seat next to Harry, her head drooping onto his shoulder.

“We were talking with Potter here,” Fred continued. “And it seems like we all need a little break from the stress of Quidditch practice.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hermione grumbled. “The rest of us aren’t on the Quidditch team, and have quite a bit of revision to be working on!”

“The door’s behind you,” Fred shot back playfully, his eyes not looking up from the glasses in front of him. “But I say we have a little bit of fun. George, if you will.”

George pushed himself into a seated position on Ronnie’s bed with a snicker. He extracted a small vial from his pocket and tossed it to Fred, who caught it easily.

“I’m sure you’re all familiar with our little friend here.” He held it up for the group to see, causing Ginny to ooh and aah. Ronnie looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“It’s a vial,” she mumbled. “That’s all?”

“Oh, Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie,” Fred laughed. “Shouldn’t have said that.” He uncorked the vial and placed a few drops into one of the glasses before handing it to the dark-haired girl. “Bottoms up.”

Ronnie shrugged. She knew it wasn’t harmful; Fred wouldn’t give her anything that could hurt her. She knocked back the Firewhiskey, savoring the burning feeling, enjoying the warmth that began to spread throughout her body. Her friends watched her expectantly.

“What?”

“Tell us, Ronnie dear,” Fred began. “Who was the last person you fucked?”

Ronnie blushed at the forwardness of the question, but before she could stop herself, her answer rolled right off of her tongue. “Cedric Diggory.”

In the laughter that ensued, Ronnie realized what she’d been given. It was Veritaserum, a very powerful potion that caused the ingester to answer any and every question completely truthfully. She burned with embarrassment as Harry and Ron particularly continued to roar with laughter, choosing instead to sit next to George on the bed, who quickly pulled her into his lap, like he was claiming her as his own.

“Alright then, who’s next?”

As the drinking continued, so did the truth-telling. Ronnie found out some particularly inappropriate things about Hermione, which were apparently news to the entire room, even her closest friends. Fred covered his ears with his hands as Ginny gushed about her relationship with Harry. Lee talked about the time he had a threesome in the prefect bathroom, while Ronnie learned far too much about Ron’s masturbation habits. By the time the spotlight landed on George, she was considerably drunk and way too happy for her own good.

Ronnie rolled out of George’s lap so that he could take the Veritaserum. Instead of mixing it with his drink, he toasted the air and brought the vial to his lips, taking a small sip. He winked at Ronnie.

“So, Georgie,” Lee began, exchanging a look with Fred. “Tell us. What was the happiest day of your life?”

“Seriously? I had to tell you all about my wanking and that’s all you ask him?” Ron protested. “Give him a different question!”

Fred leaned over and swatted Ron upside the head.

“Can it, little brother. Let him answer.”

Ronnie turned towards George, waiting for his response. She wasn’t sure she knew the answer to the question. She might have guessed when the Gryffindors won the Quidditch Cup his first year on the team, or when he and Fred finally discovered that their Skiving Snackboxes actually worked. George stared dreamily off into space.

“September 1st, 1994.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ron scoffed. “That’s not even a memory! That’s just a date! That means nothing to us.”

Ronnie looked at George, who smiled back at her with a drunken grin. He had certainly had a significant amount of Firewhiskey. She wondered if he’d even remember any of this tomorrow morning.

She had to admit that she was also surprised that George had listed a date, and not a memory. She racked her brain, trying to remember what happened on September 1st of last year. She’d woken up at the Hog’s Head, she’d gone to Hogwarts, she’d been sorted into Gryffindor, she’d met Fred and George…

She’d met Fred and George.

Fred smiled slyly at Ronnie as the realization set in. He winked at her, before turning back towards George.

“And do tell us, Georgie, why is September 1st, 1994, the happiest day of your life?”

“Because,” George began, getting to his feet dramatically, the alcohol mixing with the Veritaserum to create disastrous results. He spread his arms open wide, stumbling around in a small circle. “September 1st of 1994, I met you.” He pointed towards Ronnie, who blushed, her heart pounding in her chest.

But he wasn’t done. The words continued to pour out of his mouth like vomit, and he was far too drunk to care about the repercussions. Ronnie bit her lip, watching as the boy in front of her, her very best friend in the world, bared his soul for all of them to see.

“I met you, Ronnie, and since then, everything else has seemed so insignificant. Fuck me, I swear to Merlin,” he stumbled backwards into Fred, who used his legs to prop him up, his words ever so slurred from the Firewhiskey. “You, Ronnie Oxley, are everything.” He lowered his voice, as if his very next words were the most important he’d ever utter in his entire life.

“And I will love you until the day that I die.”

The string around her heart nearly snapped.


	24. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quidditch game against Slytherin.

Ronnie wasn’t entirely sure whether George was avoiding her or not. He’d been so busy with Quidditch practice on Thursday and Friday morning, that by the time the game rolled around, she was a mess of anxiety. He hadn’t acknowledged what had happened with the Veritaserum, and Ronnie wasn’t sure if that meant he had forgotten entirely. After all, he had been incredibly drunk.

She couldn’t sleep the night he told her he loved her. She lay awake, her stomach twisting with excitement. George Weasley loved her. And everything was going to be okay.

But as she drifted off into sleep, she dreamed of him again.

**

_“Do you really think you could get out of here if you tried, dumb bitch?” His words were ice-cold. Her head was pounding. She was no longer lying in the hallway. As she tried to move her hands to massage the pressure away from her temples, something caught her wrists. She was tied to the bed beneath her._

__

“And I’m really fucking sick and tired of hearing you whine all the bloody time.” He pointed his wand at her mouth. “Silencio, you dumb whore.”

__

She cried out, but no sound emitted from her lips. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, that constant, familiar panic rising once more. She forced her eyes shut, but he pounced on top of her and pried her eyelids open with his fingers.

__

_“Don’t you dare look away from me, Veronica.”_

**

She’d woken up Thursday morning with more nerves than she thought were possible. She waited patiently for Ginny to brush her teeth before going down to the Great Hall for breakfast. George wasn’t there; the Quidditch team was getting in all the practice they could get. She sat with Ginny and drank her juice in silence.

Ronnie knew this was a good thing, that George loved her. This wasn’t a death sentence, like it had been the last time someone had uttered those words. He’d protect her. He’d keep her safe. All she had to do was let him.

But when he came back into the Common Room that evening after practice, sweaty and tired, he didn’t say anything to Ronnie. He looked in her direction, offered her a sorry-looking smile, and headed off towards his dorm. Nor did he say anything Friday morning at breakfast. She didn’t see him at all during lunch.

So by the time Ronnie had trudged her way into the stands, following behind Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, she was feeling all too ready for the game to be over. She knew the ball was in her court. Whether George was waiting for her to say something, or needed someone to remind him what had happened, it was all up to her. As she watched the players ascend into the skies, she prayed that everything would turn out alright.

It was not going to be an easy match by any means. The Slytherins, having a reputation to uphold, had also been practicing just about non-stop. The Gryffindors were well-matched, but Ronnie knew the Malfoy boy stood no chances against Harry. He wasn’t nearly as fast or agile. The real trouble came with finding the Snitch at exactly the right time. If Harry wasn’t careful and caught it too early, the Slytherins could still win the game. He’d have to play it smart.

And he knew that. Harry was the one who’d gone on and on about strategy one afternoon at lunch. Though Ronnie had been sitting a little ways down the table with the twins and Lee, she was still able to pick up on everything he was saying. Therefore, when he took to the sky and began flying laps around the pitch, Ronnie knew exactly what his next move would be.

He faked Malfoy out a few times, mainly for laughs. Ronnie loved to see how flustered Malfoy got; he reminded her of a small child being deprived of their favorite toy. She watched with awe as the twins swung back Bludger after Bludger, the string around her heart pulling tighter and tighter as her eyes followed George through the sky. He looked so handsome up there, so incredibly strong. Every move he made, every swing, Ronnie followed him. Her eyes were glued to his tiny figure up in the sky.

Ginny was similarly fixed on Harry, who, like in the very first Quidditch match Ronnie ever attended, was not very interesting to watch. That, however, was soon to change. With both teams at an impressive 150 points, Harry had seen the Snitch. He dove, causing Malfoy to follow. Ronnie held her breath. She knew that whichever one of them caught the Snitch would be the one leading his team to victory. It had to be Harry.

Harry wasn’t having as easy of a time catching the Snitch as normal. It was incredibly fast, zooming in and out of the hoops, nothing but a golden blur in the sky. Malfoy was fast, too. It was clear that he’d been training hard for this game. He was right on Harry’s tail the entire time, and he was not a fair player. He continuously bumped into Harry, trying to knock him off of his broom. At one point, Harry nearly dove into the grass, but recovered at the last minute, to the booming cheers of the Gryffindor stands.

Then, the Snitch disappeared underneath the stands. Malfoy and Harry followed it eagerly, but they were no longer visible to the crowds. The many audience members watched with bated breath, a silence falling upon the stadium. Any minute now, one of them would reappear. Any minute now, the game would be over.

When the two boys finally burst back out onto the pitch, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Only when Malfoy landed on the ground, angrily tossing his broom to the side, did the Gryffindor stands erupt in laughter. Harry descended gracefully, holding the Snitch in his hand for everyone to see. Ronnie screamed with excitement, drowned out by the sound of Ginny squealing and cheering for her boyfriend. The rest of the Gryffindor team came to a landing, and Ronnie could make out both twins tackling Harry in a hug.

Ronnie was pushed forward as the crowd surged onto the fields. Ginny disappeared from her side, as did Ron and Hermione, all of whom had run towards Harry to congratulate him. Ronnie watched as Harry pulled Ginny into a tight hug, a wide smile across his face. Ronnie smiled at them, but her heart was pounding as she scanned the players. She wanted to find George, needed to find George.

Eventually, she spotted him towards the side of the pitch. Her pace picked up as she made her way over, eventually breaking out into a run, the blood pounding in her ears. She had no time to think about what she was doing. Reaching him, she jumped up, wrapping both her arms and legs around him and burying her face in his neck. He laughed, his hands moving under her bum to support her.

“Congratulations,” she mumbled, her words muffled from George’s robes. She pulled herself away from him for just a moment, her face wild with excitement, her eyes finding his. There they stood, George holding Ronnie, her entire body wrapped around him, their faces inches apart.

And then he kissed her.

It was unlike any kiss she’d ever had. His hands grabbing her ass, his tongue finding hers, their bodies flush against each other. He kissed her deeply, passionately. As if kissing her was the only thing in the entire world that mattered. And in that moment, it was.

George didn’t stop kissing her until the wolf-whistles became so loud that Ronnie pulled back to see what was happening. Turning her head, she saw Fred, Lee, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione all standing and watching, all of whom had great big smiles on their faces (except for Ron, who looked rather stunned). Fred snickered, passing a few sickles into the hand of Lee, who accepted them gratefully. Ginny grasped Harry’s hand, watching happily as her roommate and her brother finally admitted to themselves everything they’d all known for over a year.

“It’s about bloody time,” Fred shouted. “But alright, break it up. Hands off the ass, Georgie.”

Ronnie got to her feet, her face red with embarrassment and arousal. She leaned into George, who wrapped his arm around the small of her back. She turned to face him.

“Georgie?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I love you, too.”


	25. Bad Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quidditch afterparty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by Tiktok by @/niniweasley  
> https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe8B9w5e/

The excitement over winning the Quidditch game was contagious. While a handful of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws congratulated the Gryffindor team, the celebrations remained mostly within the lion’s house. Ronnie had been right; the afterparty was going to be one hell of a night.

George had kissed her once again, then twice, then three times before he was finally whisked away to the locker rooms with the rest of the team. He’d whispered those three little words back to her between each kiss, his voice soft and gentle, causing the butterflies in Ronnie’s stomach to do backflips. She couldn’t get enough of him. After a year and some change loving her very best friend, she finally knew what it felt like to be held by him, kissed by him, loved back by him.

Though it was clear that the two weren’t going to have a moment alone for a while. After the team disappeared into the locker rooms, Ronnie was pulled back to the Gryffindor Tower by a very excited Ginny, who waved her wand around the Common Room. Ronnie watched with excitement as balloons, streamers, and a congratulatory banner materialized. A handful of older Gryffindors broke out their secret stash of Firewhiskey and Butterbeer, and the party was in full swing. Everyone made an appearance, including Luna, who wore a ridiculously large lion hat atop her blonde head. She sipped her Butterbeer in the corner, swaying in time to the music, a dreamy look upon her face.

Ronnie had already taken two shots by the time the team made their way back to the Common Room. The first was with Ginny back in her dorm as preparation (or so Ginny called it), and the second was with Ron and Luna, who could handle her alcohol surprisingly well. Ronnie watched with amazement as the blonde witch swallowed her shot without moving a muscle, smiled, then returned back to her corner.

It was safe to say that Ronnie was considerably tipsy, her looseness only magnified by the colorful lights Ginny had strung up and the booming music in her ears. Dean and Seamus, two Gryffindor boys, had rearranged the Common Room to make space for dancing and all sorts of heinous deeds. As the red lights flashed, Ronnie could make out the two of them getting closer and closer.

Her attention snapped towards the portrait hole as she heard loud voices whooping and hollering. The team, led by Fred, flooded into the room, reaching for bottles of alcohol and cheering at the tops of their lungs. Ronnie spotted Harry searching the room frantically for Ginny, who seemed to blend in under the red lights. She looked herself for George, but the room was crowded and it was a bit hard to see.

He found her first, his arms snaking around the small of her back, pulling her into him and kissing her once again, a smile forming on his lips as they made contact with hers. Ronnie pulled back to look at him, the cheeky ginger boy whom she loved so dearly. He bit his lip, a goofy smile spreading across his face.

“Congratulations again, Weasley,” she cooed. “Very well done.”

“Congratulations are in order for a lot of reasons, don’t you think?” He leaned in closer so that Ronnie could hear him over the music. “Like, for instance, the fact that the most beautiful girl in the world loves me.”

“Oh, get off it,” she swatted his arm playfully. “Do you want a drink?”

“Already ahead of you.” The two made their way towards a table in the back, and George handed her another shot. He raised his own. “To you, darling.”

“And to you,” she followed suit. The glasses clinked against each other, and Ronnie tipped hers back, the clear alcohol flowing down her throat, further loosening her muscles and relaxing her mind. He pulled her towards the makeshift dance floor, wrapping her arms around his neck and slamming her hips into his with one swift pull. He leaned in, his voice thick and husky in her ear.

“Let’s finish what we started last year.”

Ronnie hadn’t danced up on George since the very first Room of Requirement party, when he’d popped a boner. She didn’t want to put him in that situation again. But now, George getting hard was the least of her worries. In fact, it would’ve been a welcome intrusion. She bit her lip, her tits only inches away from his chest. He tilted her chin up and kissed her.

She lost herself completely in him. It wasn’t anything like dancing with Cedric, or like dancing with George before she knew how he felt about her. It was like all the pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place. As the music played on, her hips never far from his, she felt the string around her heart tighten into place, like it was settling down for good.

His lips found her often, causing Fred and the rest of their friends to holler and whistle from across the room. Ronnie no longer found herself blushing; when Fred’s snickers and cat-calls filled her ears, she only pulled George in closer, his hands gripping her ass, as the two put on a show for their friends to see. She loved the way he looked when he pulled away, slightly breathless, his cheeks flushed, a dopey grin across his face. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. He looked at her like he knew he was going to love this girl for the rest of his life.

As the song slowed to an end, the red lights flashing overhead, George pulled her in even closer, his lips mere inches away from her ear.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

Taking her hand, George led her upstairs to the boy’s dormitories. The music began to fade into the distance as they wound their way up the staircases and down the corridors, stopping outside a wooden door with a handful of crude etchings. He pushed it open, lighting the candles on his desk with a flick of his wand. Ronnie smiled to herself as she heard the door lock behind her.

She’d only been in George’s room once or twice, and never long enough to get a good look around. Her eyes scanned her surroundings as George shed his jacket onto the desk chair, admiring the Quidditch posters, joke products, and photos that littered the room. She noticed a handful of papers taped up to the door of his armoire. Looking closer, Ronnie realized it was a collection of notes and drawings she’d given him over the past year.

“Oh, that?” George said, catching Ronnie staring. “Don’t worry about that. I’m not creepy or anything, I just like your drawings.” Even in the candlelight, Ronnie could see George’s cheeks flush a deep red. She turned to face him with a smile, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck.

“I think it’s amazing.”

She left a smattering of kisses on the tip of his nose, which only caused George to pull her in closer to him. She tried to ignore the growing sensation of George’s bulge against her, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.

Ronnie deepened the kiss, but George pulled back.

“Look, we don’t have to do anything, I didn’t bring you up here just to fuck, I just feel like I haven’t gotten any time with you all day.”

“Oh, you don’t want to fuck me?” Ronnie smiled devilishly, pushing her hips closer against hers. George was rock-hard against her. He tilted his head back and groaned as Ronnie sucked on the skin of his neck, his fingers digging into her hips.

“Are you kidding? There’s literally nothing I’d rather do.” He watched Ronnie with hunger beneath his irises, his gaze fixed on her lips. “But look, I don’t want to seem pushy, you know with Cedric and everything, really, we can totally just hang out or go back to the party if you want.”

Ronnie kissed him, taking the words right out from his mouth.

“Cedric drugged me. That’s different. I really do appreciate your concern, Georgie, but right now, my only concern is this.” She traced her fingers along the outline of his bulge, garnering a sharp intake of breath from George.

“You sure?” His hands were roaming her body, his fingers digging into her ass, tracing the shape of her hip bones. Ronnie pulled back for a moment, her eyes finding his, a smirk forming across her face.

“Do I have to tell you again?” She leaned in and whispered with a breathy voice. “Fuck me, Weasley.”


	26. Heaven on Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains graphic descriptions of sex. Discretion is advised.

He didn’t need telling twice.

George’s mouth immediately found Ronnie’s, kissing her deeply and passionately. He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his back, his erection pressing hard into her. With his hands supporting her underneath her ass, he carried her over to his bed, his lips never leaving hers. Dumping her onto the blankets, he stood up, pulled off his shirt, and stared down at the girl beneath him.

Ronnie was equally mesmerized. She’d never really seen George without a shirt on, he almost always was fully dressed around her (much to her dismay). Even in the candlelight, Ronnie could make out every edge of his hardened abs, every freckle dotting his skin. She traced along his muscles with the tip of her finger. She couldn’t believe he was hers. George Weasley was hers.

He dove back down, kissing her hungrily, his hands finding the hem of her shirt and tugging it up over her head. He attacked her neck with his mouth, sucking along her collarbones and underneath her ears, leaving small bruises in his trail. He palmed her breasts, kissing the exposed skin before reaching his hand around to her back and unclasping her bra, tossing it to the side of the bed. He paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on her naked torso.

“Holy fucking shit, Ronnie,” he laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

Ronnie blushed at the compliment, but she felt no need to cover herself up like she had in the past. Instead, she sat up, her lips meeting George’s once more, before turning him over in one swift move and pinning his shoulders down to the bed. He looked up at her with a mixture of surprise and arousal as she straddled him, taking her turn to leave kisses down his chest and neck. He closed his eyes, his head resting against the pillow, and moaned.

“I want to make you feel everything, Georgie,” she breathed, her hands fumbling with the button of his pants. “I want to give you everything.”

He didn’t protest. Ronnie slid down his pants, taking a moment to kiss along the outline of his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers, causing George to squirm and gasp with the contact. She ran her fingers up and down his chest, from his navel down to the waistband of his underwear, dipping a finger underneath the fabric every now and then. George kept his hands on her breasts, massaging them as she teased him. She felt the fabric growing wetter by her touch and finally pulled his underwear all the way down, exposing him.

Ronnie tried to hide her surprise, but she knew George heard her gasp. He watched her with satisfaction as she took him in; he was considerably bigger than anyone she’d ever been with. It made sense, what with him being so tall, but Ronnie was surprised all the same. Surprised, and incredibly, unbelievably, wet.

She snapped her attention back to what she was doing, her fingers moving to lightly stroke him up and down. He once again gasped at the contact, which only encouraged her even further. Ronnie rubbed him for a minute before bending down to plant kisses along the length of his cock, her tongue finding the tip. She teased him for a moment, her lips only coming down to the very tip of him, but he wouldn’t have it. He tangled his fingers in her hand and pushed himself into her mouth.

Ronnie was caught off guard by the forwardness, but she liked it all the same. She dug her fingers into his thighs, sucking in her cheeks as he fucked her mouth, allowing him to control the speed and intensity. She absolutely wanted to give him everything she could, which meant that she planned to let him take complete control over her. She didn’t want to be in charge. She wanted him to show her a good time.

“Jesus. Ronnie. You’re. So. Fucking. Good. At. This.” His words came out between grunts, moans, and thrusts. Ronnie smiled around his dick, taking the compliment to heart even though he was the one doing most of the work. He wasn’t gentle with her, either. The tip of his cock continuously rammed into the roof of her mouth, causing tears to leak out the corners of her eyes. But she was not going to stop, not until she’d gotten him exactly where he wanted to be.

George couldn’t seem to pull himself away from the activity at hand, either. He was enjoying the feeling of Ronnie’s lips wrapped around his cock far too much for him to notice just how close he was getting. As he picked up his speed, his cock hitting further back into Ronnie’s throat with each thrust, she began to wonder for a moment if he was about to cum.

She knew before he did. But as the thrusts continued, he began to cry out, his legs shaking from the stimulation. Ronnie pinned his thighs down to the bed as he fucked her mouth faster and harder, his moans increasing in volume.

“Fuck, Ronnie, I think I’m about to—”

His body convulsed and his cum shot straight into Ronnie’s mouth. She was ready for it. Relaxing her throat, she allowed each twitch of his cock to dispel more and more cum into her throat, waiting motionlessly for his high to ride out. When she was sure he was finished, she lightly pulled her lips off of him, kissed the tip of his cock once more, and swallowed.

George was panting, his face red and sweaty from his orgasm. Ronnie collapsed on top of him, her head coming to rest on his beating heart. He wrapped his arms around her naked back.

“Fuck, Ronnie, I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” Ronnie asked, her fingers tracing along his pectorals. She kissed the warm freckled skin.

“I didn’t mean to cum, I wanted to fuck you.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Don’t be sorry! I wanted you to feel good. I don’t care if you finished already.”

He kissed the top of her head, before swinging her around, so that Ronnie’s back was against the bed and he was on top of her. He smiled at her.

“And you make me feel so fucking good. But I think it’s time I repay the favor.” He winked at her, his lips coming back to hers, his hands tugging at the waistband of her jeans. He pulled them off, leaving Ronnie clad only in her panties, and took another moment to survey her body beneath him.

“I will never get tired of this view,” he laughed. “Ronnie, you’re so fucking sexy. How did I get to be this lucky?”

“Good question,” Ronnie replied with a laugh, causing George to grab her by the legs and pull her closer to him. He traced the outline of her underwear, but he was not nearly as patient as Ronnie was when it came to teasing. He pulled her panties down, his fingers lightly stroking her entrance, his lip caught between his teeth.

“Fucking hell, Ronnie, you’re wet.”

Ronnie blushed. “How could I not be?”

George seemed to take that as encouragement as he pushed one finger into her. Ronnie moaned into him as he kissed her harder, deeper, and added another finger. He knew exactly what he was doing; each thrust of his fingers hit her exactly where she wanted to be hit, and for a moment Ronnie wondered just how good he’d be with his dick if he was already this good with his hands.

He continued to push in to her, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing in circles, causing her to gasp and moan with pleasure. He watched her for a while, taking her closer and closer to climax, before he pulled his fingers out, quickly replacing them with his tongue. Ronnie shrieked as his mouth attached to her, feeling a bolt of electricity run through her body. The rhythm, the pressure, it was all a perfect combination. She felt herself coming undone at his touch.

George was not down there long before Ronnie felt her orgasm coming on. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him closer to her cunt, as the sensations built and finally broke. She screamed.

He loosened his grip on her as she came down from her high, looking up at her with a dopey grin.

“You, Veronica Oxley, taste unbelievably delicious.”

She swatted at him playfully, pulling him back up to her. He fell onto his back on the bed, pulling her in closer so that her head was once more resting on his chest. His arms were wrapped around her, and Ronnie couldn’t have possibly been happier.

“I love you,” she mumbled into his chest, thankful that she was finally able to utter those words to him after wanting to do so for so long.

“I love you,” George replied, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head. “And Ronnie?”

“Yeah, Georgie?”

“I promise, next time I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own bloody name.”


	27. All My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie and George go on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains elements that may be triggering to some readers, including mentions of violence, abuse, and rape. Discretion is advised.

**

_Her mouth was still sewn shut. It had been for days now. She didn’t know the exact number._

_He came into the room every so often. It was always the same routine. He’d briefly recall the spell, force water down her throat, insult her with just about every word he could come up with, and then rape her. Over, and over, and over again._

_She was numb to the rape, to the insults, to the bindings on her wrists. It was the gun that bothered her the most._

_She was being punished for trying to escape, and she knew that. As the tears leaked out of her eyes every night, she cursed herself for having gotten caught. She knew this was it. She wouldn’t get out. He was going to kill her._

_He entered the room, his wand tucked into the back pocket of his pants. He reached for the revolver on the desk, his thumb resting on the trigger. He shot her a dirty look, raised his gun to inspect it, then pointed it directly at her head, the tip just brushing up against the skin of her forehead. She shut her eyes, but couldn’t scream. Her body wouldn’t let her._

_“Should I pull it this time, hmm?” He clicked the barrel into place. Her wrists were raw and red from the bindings. She couldn’t do anything but close her eyes and pray._

_He pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. It wasn’t loaded._

_He laughed maniacally._

_“Next time, dear Veronica,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure to load it first.”_

**

Ronnie bolted up in bed, her heart pounding, gasping for air. She closed her eyes, trying to dispel the imagery of him standing in front of her, the sickening look in his eyes, his gun pointed to her forehead. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, drying off the sweat and tears. George was still fast asleep next to her. Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that she hadn’t woken him up.

The sun was beginning to rise, bathing George’s dorm in the milky light. Ronnie’s head ached, her palms raw and bloody from her nails digging into the skin in her sleep. She lightly traced over her wrists with her finger, the scars from the bindings just barely visible. She took a moment to remind herself that she was safe. She’d gotten out. She was alive.

She was no longer tired. Her stomach grumbled with hunger. Reaching for the pile of clothes on the floor, Ronnie pulled on George’s t-shirt and her jeans from the night prior, tiptoeing out of the room and lightly shutting the door behind her. She headed straight for the portrait hole, making her way through the empty corridors down to the Great Hall.

Breakfast had just started, and the Hall was practically empty. A few early risers were sitting here and there, sipping coffee and reading through the Daily Prophet. Ronnie chose a seat at the Gryffindor table and began buttering herself a slice of toast. As she munched on the corner, she gazed out the great big windows at the grounds outside. It was nearly Halloween, a crisp but sunny autumn day, and she couldn’t wait to get outside. October was always her favorite month.

George joined her shortly, his ginger hair still tousled from sleep. He spotted her sitting at the Gryffindor table, clad in his t-shirt from the night before, and grinned. He didn’t take his eyes off of her until he had sat down.

“Bloody hell, Ronnie. You look good.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled through a mouthful of toast, immediately covering her mouth to stop the crumbs from shooting out. George laughed.

“You’re awake early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Ronnie replied. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh, no worries,” George reached for a slice of toast himself. “Although I would’ve liked you there this morning to help me with a little problem I had.” His gaze shot down to his pants and Ronnie nearly choked.

“Gross, Weasley.” She reached for her glass of water.

“Tell you what,” he continued. “Why don’t we do something today? You know, something that isn’t making out in my dorm. Although, I’d like to do that later.” He winked.

Ronnie smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

“It’s a nice day,” George replied. “Fancy a trip to the Shrieking Shack?”

He knew just how much Ronnie loved the abandoned building. She hadn’t believed a second of the rumors that the place was haunted. Instead, she liked to sit up on the grassy hill just outside the fence, underneath the large oak tree, and imagine all the many lives that may have been lived in the house in front of her. During her first summer in Hogsmeade, she spent most of her time just outside the Shack, wondering what the upcoming year would have in store for her. She couldn’t have imagined things would have turned out the way they did.

“Sounds a little bit like a date, Weasley,” Ronnie answered, taking another sip of water. George scoffed.

“Well, yeah, Oxley, I’d bloody hope so.” He snickered. “Considering the fact that you slept in my bed last night, I’d hope I’d be allowed to take you on a date.”

“The answer’s yes,” Ronnie shot back, though she felt a wave of nausea run through her stomach. She closed her eyes to steady herself.

-

_“Look, Veronica, I know this might be a little bit awkward,” he began, running his fingers nervously through his mousy-brown hair. She looked up at him from her seat in the courtyard, giggling slightly at his anxious demeanor._

_“Oh, get off it! Nothing’s awkward between us.” She reached out her foot to give him a small kick. Nothing he could say would ever make her hate him. He was her very best friend._

_He smiled nervously, that same toothy grin she’d known for so long._

_“Well, I, um, I kinda like you. You know, like, like-like you. And I was wondering if maybe you’d want to go, I don’t know, on a date with me?”_

_She flushed bright red, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering around. She couldn’t hold back her excitement._

_“Are you kidding me? Of course I’ll go out with you.” She got to her feet, wrapping her arms around his middle. “It’s about time you asked, don’t you think?”_

-

George was waiting for her outside the Entrance Hall a few hours later. Ronnie had showered and changed, excitement coursing through her veins as she made her way downstairs. She’d taken the time in the shower to clear her mind; to force out all unwanted thoughts of him and what had become of him. She had George now. She did not need to be afraid of him.

He greeted her with a goofy smile, pulling her into a hug and planting a kiss on the top of her head as if it hadn’t only been a few hours since he’d seen her. He reached for her hand, interlocking their fingers as they made their way down the familiar path to Hogsmeade. Ronnie gazed around at the colorful foliage above, her heart full with contentment. She’d walked this path many times before, but never with George holding her hand. Never with George, who loved her.

They stopped on the hill outside the Shrieking Shack. George had brought a small blanket hidden in his bag, and he spread it out atop the grass. Ronnie sat down, her back leaning against the trunk of the tree, nestling into George’s side. They both gazed at the Shack.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever understand what you see in this place, Ron,” George began with a chuckle.

“I don’t know,” Ronnie replied, her eyes scanning the shattered windows, the boarded up door, and the mossy facade. “There’s something about it. It’s broken, sure, but it’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” George answered, but Ronnie could tell he was unconvinced.

“It makes me believe that even things like this house, things that seem so beyond repair, can still be appreciated. There’s still a chance for us, you know?” She cleared her throat quickly. “I mean them. There’s still a chance for them.”

If George caught her mistake, he didn’t show it. He only rested his chin on the top of her head.

“They need a lot of love, sure,” Ronnie continued. “This Shack would need a hell of a renovation in order to be livable again, but I’d say it’s possible, wouldn’t you?”

George was silent for a moment. He wrapped both arms around the girl leaning against him.

“Do you think love is all it needs?” He asked. 

“Isn’t that all anybody needs?” Ronnie replied. “I’d think so. A little love can go a long way.”

“Well,” George answered. “You have all my love, Ronnie. And broken or not, you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”


	28. Percy's in Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter arrives from the Burrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains graphic descriptions of sex. Discretion is advised.

George and Ronnie spent the entire afternoon in Hogsmeade. After gazing at the Shack for a while, the two paid a visit to Big Jim, who was delighted to see Ronnie and perhaps a little too aggressive towards George. He consistently reminded the boy that he was always being watched, and that if he dared to hurt Ronnie, he’d have a bad thing coming to him. George was significantly frightened by the time the two set off back towards Hogwarts.

“Do you think he’s serious about hexing me?” Ronnie could tell there was a bit of nervousness in George’s voice. She found it sweet how anxious he was about making a good impression.

“Oh, shush,” Ronnie replied, tightening her grip around George’s hand. “He already knows about your family, he let me go stay there for New Year’s, didn’t he?”

“Well, he couldn’t really stop you, could he?”

“He’s like my dad, Georgie. He loves me. Of course he’s going to be scary to you.” She stopped, reaching on her toes to kiss him on his nose. “It’s new for me, but I love him, too. And I want you to love him as well.”

“Well, he’s a nice man,” George replied. “But I really don’t want to be hexed.”

“Well then,” Ronnie picked back up her pace towards the school. “Don’t hurt me, I guess.”

George scoffed. “Veronica Oxley! I would never!”

Ronnie dissolved into laughter as the two made their way back into the castle. She bid goodbye to George, who asked her to come back to his room later that night, claiming he could hardly sleep alone now. She agreed, collapsing onto her bed with a heavy sigh. Ginny traipsed in from the bathroom.

“Have a good date, Ronnie?” Ginny winked at her.

Ronnie sat up. “Excellent, thank you.” She patted the space on the bed next to her, watching as Ginny came to sit down. “You know, I never really asked you if this was okay. He is your brother, and you’re my roommate. I would never want to cross that boundary without your permission, especially with all the kindness your family has shown me.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Get off it, Ronnie. We love you. Don’t act like Fred and Lee didn’t orchestrate the whole thing either with the Veritaserum. I think it’s great. I’ve always wanted a sister, and you’ve been more of a sister to me than anyone.”

“Are you sure?” Ronnie asked. Ginny took her hand.

“Ron, everyone’s happy about this. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Ronnie offered her a smile. She spent the rest of the evening with Ginny, listening to her talk about all of her sexual encounters with Harry. The two went to dinner together, but the twins and Lee had already eaten and were back upstairs working on some new joke product. Ronnie found them in George’s room, sprawled across the floor, surrounded by all sorts of strange ingredients.

She made her way towards George’s bed, wrapping herself up in his quilt, trying to make sense of what the boys were doing on the floor beneath her.

“Working on new snacks,” Fred said without looking up. “Something else to add to the Snackboxes.”

“Care to taste?” Lee held up a small, lime-green lollipop. Ronnie shook her head.

“That’s alright, I’m pretty satisfied with my current physical state.” George gazed over at her, his eyes coming to focus on her tits. She stuck her tongue out at him, but he only winked. He stood up.

“Boys, if you don’t mind,” he motioned towards the door. “There’s a pretty girl in my bed right now, and I’d much rather be giving her my attention than you two gits.” Fred fake gagged and Lee scoffed, but both departed through the bathroom towards Fred’s dorm instead. George locked the door behind them, casting a handful of silencing spells over the room. He dove onto the bed, tackling Ronnie and planting kisses all over her. She laughed.

“I’d hate to interrupt whatever it is you were doing,” Ronnie giggled, but George only kissed her again, his hands roaming her body. She could feel his erection pressed up against her stomach, a tingling sensation arising just beneath her navel.

“Interrupt away,” he replied between kisses. “I’d rather be doing you, anyways.”

He was a lot quicker about things this time, ripping off her clothes and his own until the two were fully naked, bodies pressed against each other. She knew how badly he wanted her, and the feeling was mutual. She wasn’t interested in taking things slow. She wanted him inside of her, now.

As he kissed down her chest, he pushed two fingers into her cunt, pumping them in and out rhythmically, snickering at her wetness. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he kissed her, her whining and moaning cut off by his lips. She couldn’t take it. She needed him.

“George,” she moaned, completely breathlessly. “Please, I need you inside of me.”

He snickered once again before lining himself up with her. His eyes darted down to hers.

“Are you ready, darling?”

She nodded, and he pushed himself into her. For a moment, Ronnie could have sworn her vision went black. He felt much bigger than he looked, but she braced through the pain, as his slow thrusts eventually turned into the greatest pleasure she’d ever felt. He lowered himself onto her, his fingers intertwining with hers, his hips moving rhythmically. Ronnie felt herself grow wetter with each of his grunts and moans.

“Bloody fucking hell, Ronnie,” he groaned, hitting her deeper and deeper with each thrust. “You’re so fucking good to me.”

She threw her head back against the pillow, allowing herself to let go. She could feel the familiar pressure building in her stomach; she wasn’t going to last long with George fucking her the way he was.

Though it appeared that the feeling was mutual. As George’s pace picked up, so did the frequency of his moans and grunts, and Ronnie could tell that he was getting close. She dug her nails into the skin of his back, holding him as close to her as she possibly could.

“Together?” She asked, her voice breathy and hoarse. George nodded. Within a few moments, both of them had let go; George collapsed on top of her and Ronnie wrapped her arms around his back, each of them a panting, sweaty mess.

She planted a kiss on the top of his head and closed her eyes. She hadn’t felt that good in a long time.

“Fuck, Ronnie,” George mumbled, wrapping his arms underneath her back. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“Good,” she replied, causing George to laugh. He rolled off of her and onto his back, pulling her close to his chest. She reached for the quilt to cover herself up.

The nightmares didn’t come. Ronnie slept peacefully, her small body completely enveloped by George, who always had an arm wrapped around her from behind. He was much clingier than he had been the night before, and she wondered for a moment if he had heard her waking up with such force. Perhaps he was hoping he could keep her safe from the visions that plagued her at night.

The two were woken in the middle of the night by a loud banging on the bathroom door. As George blinked his eyes open, Fred burst into the room, clutching a letter. He moved over to the bed, using his wand to light up the room.

“The fuck, Freddie?” George asked sleepily, pulling Ronnie closer to him and hiking the covers up over her. She realized immediately that they were both still naked underneath the blanket.

“It’s from Mum,” Fred replied, shoving the parchment into George’s hands. “It’s Percy. He’s been in some sort of accident. They’ve taken him to St. Mungo’s.”

“Fucking hell,” George sat upright, scanning the letter. “What about Gin and Ron? Do they know?”

“I think she only sent the one letter,” Fred replied. “I don’t want to worry them unless we need to. I’m going to go see Dumbledore about Apparating out of here. Coming with?”

George looked nervously at Ronnie, who nodded.

“Go. Make sure he’s okay.”

“Okay,” George planted a kiss on the side of her head. “Freddie, turn around.” Fred obliged, and George got out of bed, pulling a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on. He looked once more at Ronnie.

“It’s okay, Georgie,” she replied. “It’ll be fine.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, as Fred ushered him out the door, leaving Ronnie in complete silence. She reached for the discarded letter.

_Fred,_

_Percy’s in St. Mungo’s. We aren’t sure why, but the doctors say he’s critical. Please come as soon as you can._

_Love, Mum_


	29. The Boggart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie faces a Boggart in DADA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains elements that may be extremely disturbing to some readers (gun violence, gore). Discretion is advised.

Neither Fred nor George returned for a few days, but Ronnie was continuously being given updates by Ginny. Both she and Ron had gone to visit Percy, but had ultimately come back to continue going to classes. The twins had stayed longer to console their mother, who was a nervous wreck.

Percy had apparently been hit by a mysterious spell during a Ministry outing that had caused his bones to break and grow in different directions, some of which pierced his internal organs. The doctors were able to stop the damage, but he was on strict bed rest and was touch-and-go for a while. George sent a note to Ronnie letting her know that he’d be coming back soon, but Ronnie told him not to worry. She knew that family should always come first.

The twins didn’t come back until the day after Halloween. Ronnie finally found George between classes, as she was making her way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. He spotted her in the hallway, dashing towards her and wrapping her in a tight hug. She kissed him, realizing at once just how much she had missed him over the past few days.

“Oh, you’re back!” Ronnie exclaimed, her fingers interlocking with George’s. “Is Percy alright?”

“He’s much better now,” George answered. “All of his bones are where they should be, and his organs are healed. Don’t tell Mum I said this, but now that he’s going to make it, it is a little bit funny what happened.” He smiled his typical cheeky grin, which caused Ronnie to roll her eyes.

“You shouldn’t say that! That’s horrible.”

“Well, I’m back, aren’t I? And I missed you.” He kissed her once more.

“I missed you, too. It’s not the same without you around here. You missed Halloween.” Ronnie smiled cheekily. “I dressed up like an angel.”

“You are an angel, darling,” George laughed. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“If you’re good, maybe I’ll wear it for you later,” Ronnie winked. “But I’ve really got to run, Lupin won’t be too happy with me if I’m late to Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

George feigned a pout, but released Ronnie from his grip. “Fine, go on. But find me later, okay? I have something to ask you.” He offered her a wink, and Ronnie reluctantly made her way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

She liked Professor Lupin; he was a kind man with mousy-brown hair and some mild facial scarring. Mostly, she liked him because of the way he taught; it was all practical usage as opposed to theory. She much preferred casting actual curses and countercurses rather than sitting through long lectures and taking notes.

As she entered the room, she noticed a dusty cabinet set up in the middle of the floor, containing something that was rattling quite a bit. Ronnie made her way over to Ginny, who was standing with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“What’s he got in there?” Ronnie asked, watching with interest as the cabinet continued to thump and rattle.

“Boggart, I believe,” Hermione replied. “I’ve always wanted to see one. I do hope we get to practice against it.”

Professor Lupin entered the room moments later, clapping his hands together. He stopped just in front of the cabinet, turning to face the class.

“Good afternoon, class,” he began. “As you may have guessed from all the noise, today we will be working with a Boggart. Can anybody tell me what a Boggart is?”

Hermione’s hand shot up.

“A Boggart is a dark creature who takes the form of what the person in front of it fears the most.” She beamed with pride.

“Correct,” Lupin replied. “Today, we will be working with the Riddikulus charm. Are we all aware as to how that works?” The class nodded. “Very good. Line up then, don’t be shy.”

“Wait, Ginny,” Ronnie whispered, pulling on the girl’s sleeve. “I don’t know that charm.”

Ginny looked at her incredulously.

“What do you mean? We learn this stuff third-year.”

“Right,” Ronnie replied. “Can you teach me? Quickly?”

“It’s really simple. All you do is point your wand at the Boggart, and say ‘Riddikulus.’ And think of something that would make you happy. You’re trying to turn your Boggart into something less scary.” She smiled.

“Thanks,” Ronnie answered. It seemed intuitive enough. She was proud of her ability to pick up skills quickly.

After being pushed this way and that by the class, Ronnie ended up at the very back of the line. She was a little frustrated, wanting to try her luck with the Boggart, but she also enjoyed watching all the students in front of her. Harry’s Boggart turned into a dementor, but he defended himself excellently. Ron’s became a giant spider, while Hermione’s turned into the familiar Professor McGonagall, scolding her for failing her classes. Ronnie found this a bit comical, but characteristic.

Other Boggarts included snakes, mummies, tall buildings, and phobias of all kinds. Each and every one of the students in front of Ronnie managed to perform the Riddikulus charm to the approval of Lupin, except for Neville Longbottom, who needed a bit of help turning Professor Snape into something far less threatening. 

Ginny took the stage next. Her Boggart morphed into two people, Harry and Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw girl who played on the Quidditch team. Ginny watched with horror and embarrassment as the Boggart Harry and Cho began to kiss each other passionately. She didn’t end up needing to cast the Riddikulus charm; the laughter from the students at the sight of Harry and Cho kissing was enough to send the Boggart into a frenzy.

As Ginny walked towards the back of the room, her face bright red, Ronnie replaced her. She pointed her wand at the Boggart Harry and Cho, waiting for it to morph into her greatest fear. She’d never faced a Boggart before, and she wondered for a moment what might appear in front of her. She was quite afraid of heights, spiders, and oddly enough, moldy bread. The image of a large fuzzy loaf made her giggle, sending away any possible nerves that had been building up inside of her.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the Boggart morphed from two people into one. Ronnie felt the color drain out of her face, as she found herself face-to-face with a tall, mousy-haired boy. He was wearing an old leather jacket, a ripped pair of jeans, and Ronnie noticed the familiar cigarette poking out of his pocket. Her heart began to beat faster.

He took a step towards her, the corner of his lip curling up into a twisted smirk. He ran his fingers through his hair, his knuckles bruised and dirty. Ronnie felt the sounds of the room surrounding her begin to drown out, replaced by an incessant buzzing in her eardrums.

“Riddikulus,” she mumbled, but the charm didn’t work. She readjusted her grip on her wand, staring intensely at the boy in front of her. She hadn’t realized the revolver in his hand until he raised it, pointing the barrel directly at her forehead. She heard some of the students behind her gasp.

He tilted his head to one side, surveying the girl in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak, his voice sharp and grating.

“Hi, Veronica. Missed me?” 

“I’m not afraid of you,” she uttered, pointing her wand back at the boy. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” But he only stared at her, the revolver mere inches from her skin. He readjusted his finger to rest on the trigger.

“Are you going to charm me away, Veronica? Don’t be a coward,” he teased. 

“I’m not a coward,” Ronnie replied. “I am not a coward.”

“Oh, yeah?” The boy pulled the trigger, the familiar sound of the click sending chills down Ronnie’s spine. She winced. “Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

Ronnie raised her wand. She opened her eyes, keeping her gaze fixed on the boy in front of her.

“Don’t you forget,” she shot back, her jaw clenched and teeth gritted. “It was me who won in the end. Riddikulus.”

The students behind her began to scream, and Professor Lupin rushed forward, throwing his body in front of Ronnie. The Boggart turned into a full moon, but Lupin quickly charmed it and sent it back into the cabinet, locking the door. He turned to face Ronnie, his expression anxious and concerned.

“Miss Oxley, are you alright?”

But Ronnie didn’t reply. She was staring off into the distance at the exact spot where the Boggart had been, a sinister smile spread across her face. The screams from behind her had stopped, and were replaced by the whisperings of the confused students.

Lupin looked at Ronnie anxiously. “Get on then, all of you,” he addressed the rest of the room. “See you all on Thursday.”

Ronnie listened as the students made their way out of the classroom. She didn’t move; the sick smile still plastered across her face.

Lupin shut the doors behind them, leaving him and Ronnie completely alone. He watched her for a moment, before moving back in front of her gaze. “Ronnie, excuse my language, but what the hell was that? Should we talk about what happened?” 

Ronnie turned to look at him, the smile fading from her face.

“My apologies, Professor. I’m sorry for causing a scene.”

“Don’t apologize, Ronnie. I’m not worried about the scene. I’m worried about what just happened. The Riddikulus charm, you’re supposed to think of something happy. Boggarts can’t stand laughter.”

“That’s what I did, Professor.” Ronnie replied, averting her gaze. Lupin only stared at her. “Am I free to go?”

“I suppose,” Lupin folded his arms over his chest. “Have a good rest of your day, okay? And you can talk to me, anytime you need.”

Ronnie smiled at him weakly and turned to leave, making her way down the empty corridor. As she walked back to the Gryffindor Tower, the screams from her fellow students echoed in her ears. She felt bad for scaring them, she really did. But the image of her Boggart, the boy with the mousy-brown hair and tattered leather jacket, standing in front of her with a bloody gunshot wound to the forehead, only made her smile.


	30. Jesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie tells George about her past relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains a detailed account of Ronnie’s backstory and abusive relationship. PLEASE do not read if you are easily triggered by violence, rape, and other dark themes (gun violence, knives, alcohol). It is not necessary that you read this chapter to understand the rest of the story, but it is important. I cannot stress this enough. For those wishing to skip, I will include a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter.

Ronnie made her way back to the Common Room, sighing with relief upon finding it empty. She was in no mood to explain herself to Ginny, or Ron, or Hermione. She was least of all looking forward to talking to George, though she knew he’d find out. Someone would tell him. She wondered if the boy with the gunshot wound was all anyone could talk about. Ronnie couldn’t decide which was worse: everybody caring, or nobody caring at all.

She wasted no time in escaping to her dorm, shutting and locking the door behind her. Ronnie collapsed onto the bed, burying her face into the pillow and letting out an angry, muffled scream. She was so sick and tired of him showing up. In her dreams, as her Boggart. She rolled onto her back.

“Why the fuck won’t you just leave me alone?”

“Rude, but alright.”

Ronnie bolted upwards, her eyes landing on Ginny, who was standing in the bathroom doorway. She sighed.

“Sorry, I wasn't talking to you.”

“Figured as much,” Ginny replied. “I heard you yelling. Do you want to talk about this?”

“Not really.”

“Okay,” Ginny began retreating back into the bathroom. “But, um, I-already-told-George-so-he-should-be-coming-soon-okay-bye!” She closed the door behind her, and Ronnie could hear her footsteps rushing back into her dorm. She sighed yet again.

There was only a short pause before Ronnie could make out the thudding footsteps of George in the hallway, followed immediately by a knocking on her door. She wondered for a minute if she could pretend she was asleep. Would he leave her alone then?

“Ronnie, open up, I know you’re in there.”

She said nothing.

“Ronnie, I know you’re not asleep. Don’t make me charm open this door.”

Rolling to her side, Ronnie strode across the room, unlocking and pulling the door open. George stepped in, shutting it heavily behind him, his eyes fixed on her. He was wearing an expression she’d never seen before; it wasn’t anger, or frustration. It was concern. Fear.

“What’s up?” Ronnie asked.

“Don’t start with me,” George replied. “We’re not going to do that, okay?”

Ronnie’s gaze landed on her feet, focusing on the dust bunny centimeters from her toes. She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the budding tears to go away.

“Ronnie, wait, I’m not mad,” George reached forward, pulling her into a tight hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. Ronnie breathed him in, that same sweet, smoky scent she was so used to. But it didn’t make her feel any better. George holding her here and now didn’t make him any less real. She needed to pull herself together, or she was going to break. And she’d done a miraculous job holding it together over the past year and a half.

George could sense that she was starting to lose it. As Ronnie shifted to pull away, he only tightened his grip, forcing her back into his chest, his arms wrapped around her back.

“Let go,” Ronnie warned, but George ignored her. He kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek against her hair.

“I’m not kidding, let go.”

“Not yet.”

“Let go!”

“No.”

“George, let go! Let go, let go, let go!”

She broke.

Ronnie burst into tears, her body convulsing with each individual sob. George’s chest only muffled some of the sound; her cries echoed throughout the rest of the room in an eerie, haunting way. She dissolved into him, his arms the only thing keeping her standing, as every insult, every slap, every threat from him came rushing forward and out of her body. She was purging him. She would make him leave.

George held her for hours, moving over towards the bed at one point to sit down. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask her to stop, he only kept his arms wrapped around her, holding her close and waiting for the storm to pass. He didn’t look away as Ronnie’s face turned into a blotchy, swollen mess. He didn’t complain when the force of her sobs caused her to vomit onto the floor. He only held her, and he waited.

It was nearly one in the morning when Ronnie finally calmed down, her throat red and raw from crying, her body dehydrated from all the tears. She took a deep breath, conjuring up a glass of water, and swallowed it in one gulp. Her puffy eyes landed on George, who finally released his grip.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice still shaky.

“No,” George replied. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” Ronnie nodded. “Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

George scooted closer, taking one of Ronnie’s hands in his own and using the other to rub small circles into her back.

“I’m right here, darling. Now, can you tell me who your Boggart was?”

Ronnie closed her eyes, the name forming on her lips, the name she hadn’t spoken aloud in years. The name that broke her into nothing. She took another deep breath.

“His name’s Jesse, Jesse Stark. He was my best friend, and then my boyfriend, and now, I guess he’s nothing.” She looked anxiously towards George, expecting him to react in some way, to be angry or disgusted with her, but he only nodded.

“And he’s your Boggart now?”

“I suppose he is.”

“What happened with Jesse?”

“It’s a long story, it’s not of much importance.” A lie.

“That’s not true,” George replied. “You’ll feel better once you tell me.” Ronnie knew he was right.

“We, um, we met during my first year at Ilvermorny. He really was my best friend, you know. He stood by me when those boys drugged me. Only one who would. And when my parents kicked me out, his family took me in.”

“But something happened?”

“Yes,” Ronnie replied, forcing the rising bile back down into her stomach. “I don’t know what changed him, but something did. Something deep in his soul. It was one of those changes you can never come back from. Once you’re gone, you’re gone. And he was gone.

“He made some new friends during our second year, he started smoking cigarettes, and he always wore this leather jacket that was falling apart at the seams. And he bought a revolver.”

“He bought a gun?”

“Yes, he bought a gun.” Ronnie paused a moment, her eyes fixed on the wall of her dorm. “I still see that fucking gun when I close my eyes at night.”

“Your Boggart had a gun,” George remarked, tightening his grip on Ronnie’s hand.

“I tried to break up with him at the end of our second year. He wasn’t my Jesse anymore. I didn’t recognize him, I didn’t like him. I didn’t want anything to do with him. But he manipulated me into staying. I knew I didn’t have anywhere else to go during the summer, not with my parents being the way that they were. And so I stayed. For a little bit.

“He became so violent that summer. It started slow; he would hit me occasionally, call me names, small stuff like that. But then he started raping me. And that gun, that fucking gun, he started pointing it at my forehead every fucking day.” A nauseated look spread across George’s face, but Ronnie ignored it. She averted her gaze.

“He didn’t use magic. He didn’t want to get in trouble. Nobody calls the Minister of Magic on someone slicing up their girlfriend’s stomach with knives or pointing a fucking revolver at her forehead. And so one day during that summer, I ran. And I got so close, so fucking close, but he caught me. And things would never be the same after that.”

She paused for a moment, collecting herself, focusing on her breathing.

“For the rest of that summer, he kept me locked in his room, tied to his bed,” she absentmindedly rubbed her fingers over the faint scars on her wrists. “Silenced me a lot of the time. I couldn’t go anywhere, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t leave. I resigned to myself that I was going to die in that fucking house. But then one day, when he was passed out drunk from all the Firewhiskey he consumed daily, I got out.

“I ran for my fucking life. I ran until I tasted blood, I ran until I couldn’t see his neighborhood behind me. I ran until I got to a Muggle bus station. I fled states. I met up with an old friend, I wrote to my headmaster, and I told him I wasn’t coming back.”

“You didn’t know the charm. You skipped your third year?”

“I skipped my third year. I was hiding. And come June, I made my way to London, I met Dumbledore, and then I met you. And everything is okay now.”

Ronnie wiped the tears from her cheeks, noticing that George was crying, too. She bit her lip.

“Every time I think I’m going to forget him, he shows up again. In my dreams. In class. Every time I look in the fucking mirror I see him.”

“What do you mean?” George asked, his hand still gripping Ronnie’s. She closed her eyes, her fingers moving to the hem of her shirt. Tugging up the material, Ronnie pointed her wand at the area just above her left hip bone.

“Revelio.”

The smooth, milky skin changed immediately, replaced by dozens of faint scars, sliced up and down Ronnie’s stomach. But the area she was pointing at with her wand held a different kind of scar. A pair of initials. JS.

“I think I might,” George muttered, before turning to the side and vomiting off the bed. Ronnie nodded, vanishing the mess with her wand. She crawled into his arms.

“I love you so fucking much, Georgie. But this is a part of me. And I understand if it’s too much for you to handle. I’m giving you an out. You can walk away now, no hard feelings.” She swallowed.

George turned to look at her, his eyes wide with shock and horror. He immediately tilted up her chin, his lips connecting with hers. He held her there, kissing her, for a few moments before pulling away.

“I will never walk away from you, Ronnie. I swear on my life, you are safe with me.” He dug his fingernails into his palms, the anger at this Jesse bubbling in his veins. He could feel himself growing madder and madder at Jesse, at himself for not having been there to protect this girl he loved so dearly. “I promise I’ll protect you for as long as I live.”

“Thank you,” Ronnie replied, cuddling up on George’s lap. She had to admit, as painful as it had been to recount her experiences with Jesse, she did feel a hell of a lot better. The weight that had been sitting on her chest for so long had finally lifted. She was free.

The two laid together for a while, drifting in and out of sleep, when suddenly, Ronnie remembered.

“Wait, Georgie?”

“Hmm?” He opened his eyes sleepily.

“Earlier you said you had something to ask me.”

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “It might be a bit strange to ask now.”

“No, please ask!” Ronnie replied. “I want to know.”

“Well,” George said, sitting up. “I was wondering if maybe, you’d like to be my girlfriend?” He watched Ronnie nervously for a moment, who immediately burst into laughter.

“Are you kidding? Of course, Georgie,” she replied, peppering his face with kisses. “Of course.”

And for the first time since they met, she didn’t feel guilty at all for saying so.


	31. Back at the Burrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie heads back to the Burrow for Christmas break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 28 Summary: Ronnie fled from her ex-boyfriend Jesse in August of 1993, later making her way to Wizarding Britain the following June where she met with Dumbledore, and our story began.

George didn’t bring up Jesse again, though he did check in on Ronnie frequently, making sure she was doing okay. He also reminded her virtually every day that she was his girlfriend, and told just about everyone in passing that the two had made it official. According to Ginny, he’d even written home and told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley about her, which caused her to blush. But George was clearly excited and proud of his new girlfriend, so she let him gush.

The nightmares were becoming less and less frequent now that Ronnie had told George. She hoped that maybe this was the end of Jesse. Maybe she had finally let him go for good.

Fall was turning into winter, and Ronnie was spending more time back in the library preparing for her exams. Cedric avoided her every time, keeping his gaze fixed on his homework in front of him. Clearly, whatever the twins had done to him that night after the party had been enough to scare him off for good.

With the Christmas holidays approaching, Ronnie found herself wrapped in George’s arm one evening, both of them sweaty and breathless from their prior activities. She nestled closer into him as the cold started to set in, burrowing underneath the blankets for warmth. George kissed her on the head, pulling her closer to him.

“So, Ron, we’re leaving on the train tomorrow at nine, so be ready.”

Ronnie sat up, staring at the boy next to her with confusion.

“What?”

“You know, for Christmas? The train leaves tomorrow, so we’re leaving tomorrow on the train at nine. Don’t be late.” He winked, and Ronnie shoved him. “Oh, I forgot to tell you?”

“You might have,” she replied. “Did you ask your parents?”

“Of course,” George furrowed his brow. “Mum practically forced me to invite you. Though I would have anyway, so it worked out.”

“I’d have to ask Big Jim.”

“So ask Big Jim. You can write him a letter. Here,” George pointed his wand at his desk. “Accio parchment.” He handed her the parchment and a quill from his bedside table. “There you go.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes, quickly penning out a note to Big Jim. She told him there’d been a change of plans, and that she would be spending Christmas with the Weasleys. She also promised to be back for New Year’s. She couldn’t possibly imagine leaving him on his own all month.

“I’d better go pack, then,” Ronnie said, throwing the covers off and reaching for her clothes. She folded the letter and placed it in her pocket, leaning down to kiss George before she left. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t be late, love,” George replied with a wink.

-

Ronnie might have overslept if it hadn’t been for Ginny bursting into her room the next morning with the urgent need to borrow Ronnie’s hairbrush. Ronnie blinked awake, immediately throwing off the covers when she realized the time and hurrying to change into something more appropriate for travel. She tossed Ginny her hairbrush and hurried to the bathroom to wash her face.

“Here,” Ginny said, passing the brush back into Ronnie’s hands. “We should probably head downstairs.” Ronnie nodded, and the two girls made their way down to the courtyards, lugging their trunks behind them.

The twins, Ron, and Harry met up with Ginny and Ronnie at the train station, all carrying trunks and all looking far too tired for their own good. Ron yawned loudly, his fingers clasped around a dry piece of toast from the Great Hall. Ronnie’s stomach growled.

“You hungry, Ron?” George asked, snaking an arm around her waist.

“Could you hear that?” She asked, wondering just how loud her stomach was being.

“Hear what?” He replied. “I didn’t hear anything, I was just wondering. Here, I snagged you a muffin.” He handed her a slightly-squashed poppyseed muffin. She accepted it gratefully, nibbling on the top as the group waited for the train.

Ronnie had only been on the train once, and that was coming back from the Weasleys last year. She had liked it; the journey provided a good view of the countryside and George usually smuggled her snacks. This time, he kept his arm around her and proved to be a good pillow for a quick nap, where Ronnie was able to catch up on some of her sleep. By the time the train arrived back in London, she was feeling very well-rested.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting for the friends at the train station, greeting each of them with great big hugs and kisses. Mrs. Weasley was especially delighted to see Ronnie, wrapping her arms around her neck.

“Ronnie, dear, I’m so happy you made it,” she remarked, surveying the girl in front of her. “And may I just say how happy I am to have you as George’s girlfriend! You’re good for him, dear. And you know where to find me if he ever acts up.”

Ronnie laughed, leaning back into George who had snuck up behind her. Once all their trunks had been unloaded from the train, the group Apparated together back to the Burrow, and Ronnie was once again standing inside the very best house in the world.

It felt different to be in the Burrow as George’s girlfriend, but not by much. She had already begun fancying him by this time last year. And now that they were official, there would be no need to hide their relationship (though it wasn’t like they ever had to do so).

Ronnie brought her trunk up to Ginny’s room, collapsing on the girl’s bed to catch her breath. She wondered if she’d be given the boot later on, and made a mental note to pull out a pair of pajamas from her trunk ahead of time. As she was doing so, there came a knock on the door, revealing George standing in the doorway, watching her.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi,” Ronnie returned with a smile. “Just pulling out some pajamas in case Ginny and Harry decide to kick me out again.”

“Oh, I hope they do,” George replied, striding across the room and wrapping his arms around Ronnie’s middle. He kissed her, his hands moving to grab her ass. She pushed him off.

“Keep it in your pants, Weasley, we’re in your sister’s room.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, if they do happen to kick you out, you can always come sleep with me. I’d love to see you in my bed again. Maybe a little sequel to last year?” He winked.

“Maybe, if you’re lucky,” Ronnie replied. “But don’t count on it.”

-

Ronnie spent the afternoon visiting with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley between matches of wizard chess with her friends. She always had the best time at the Burrow; it was a nice change having a family she could call her own. Her parents and Benedict obviously didn’t count, and Jesse’s family didn’t pay enough attention to her to realize what was going on. With the Weasleys, she felt like she was seen. Loved. Appreciated.

Mrs. Weasley made dinner that evening, and Ronnie found herself laughing constantly between bites of potato and chicken. George kept his hand on her thigh throughout the meal, his gaze landing on her every so often. He snuck kisses to her cheeks, causing Fred to gag dramatically.

As dinner finished, people began to move about the house, some going up to bed, others relaxing in the den. Ronnie offered to help Mrs. Weasley clean up, but she was told to head straight to bed and get her rest. Not wanting to be rude, Ronnie did just that.

She had just placed her hand on the door handle when she heard that familiar giggling. She rolled her eyes, laughing to herself quietly. Dinner had only been over for less than an hour. Ginny and Harry clearly had some catching up to do.

Instead of setting up camp outside Ginny’s door, Ronnie turned down the hallway and made her way to the twins’ room, knocking lightly. Fred was already lying in bed, reading some wizard comic. George, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Georgie?” Ronnie asked, digging through the closet for an oversized t-shirt. She threw it on over her underwear before climbing into George’s bed. She found it a bit comical, how much more comfortable she was with the Weasley family than she had been last year. Last year, she was too shy to even head downstairs and crash on the couch.

“Bathroom, I think,” Fred replied. “And if you’re going to get handsy with my brother under the covers, use Muffliato, for Merlin’s sake.”

Ronnie flushed bright red, tossing a pillow across the room. It landed on Fred with a thump.

“How dare you!” She laughed, dodging as the pillow came flying back. At that moment, the door opened, revealing a shirtless and sleepy looking George. His face lit up upon seeing Ronnie.

“Are they really at it again?” He asked, sliding into bed next to her and wrapping her up in his arms.

“When are they not?” Ronnie replied. “They’re lucky I love them both so much, because damn. The amount of sleep I’ve lost over them is unreal.”

George pointed his wand at the lamps and the room fell into darkness. He settled into bed, his body wrapping around Ronnie’s from behind. This time, she made a mental note of his room; the way his sheets smelled, the way the decorations fit with his personality, the way he folded his clothes in his drawers. She didn’t want to miss a single detail.

“Goodnight, love,” George said, kissing Ronnie on the shoulder. She snuggled in closer to him.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Fred called from across the room. “And for my own sake, Muffliato.


	32. Christmas Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas at the Burrow!

Ronnie woke the next morning to her face being peppered by kisses. She groaned, rolling onto her side.

“Stop, Fred.”

“You bitch.” George pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. “It’s Christmas, don’t you think you should be a little bit nicer to me?”

“Good morning,” Ronnie replied with a smile, the two of them sinking into a deep kiss. “Merry Christmas.”

“And a happy Christmas to you too, darling. Ready for your first gift?”

“My first gift? I have more than one?” Ronnie’s mind darted to the small bundle of presents tucked away in her trunk for the Weasley family. This year, she remembered to get something for both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“Well,” George jerked his head over towards Fred’s bed, which was empty. “I’d say so.” He reached for his wand on the nightstand, whispered a handful of silencing spells, and pulled Ronnie even closer, kissing her deeply.

-

The two of them made their way downstairs an hour later, George struggling to fix his messy hair. The rest of the family was already awake and gathered in the den. Mrs. Weasley pushed a mug of hot chocolate into Ronnie’s hands immediately, taking the bundle of presents out from her arms and placing them under the tree. Ronnie looked around the room, a smile coming to her face.

It was as though the den had been transformed overnight; the Christmas tree glittered with lights and tinsel, set in the center of the room amongst holly-lined windows, mistletoe, and baubles of all shapes and sizes. Though by far the best part of the scene was the Weasley family along with Harry, all cuddled up on the couches and chairs, their faces red from happiness and spiced wine.

“Happy Christmas, dear,” Mrs. Weasley smiled, planting a kiss on the top of Ronnie’s head.

“Merry Christmas!”

George took a seat on the floor in front of the tree, pulling Ronnie into his lap and wrapping a heavy knitted blanket around the two of them. She leaned her head back into the crook of his neck, inhaling that same, cinnamon-y scent that was so familiar to her. For the first Christmas in several years, she felt absolutely at peace.

“You go first, Ginny, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, snuggling into Mr. Weasley’s side. Ginny, who seemed slightly reluctant to remove herself from Harry’s grasp, crawled forward and snatched up a small parcel wrapped in brown packaging. Tearing off the paper, Ginny revealed the gift to be a necklace with a small, singular pearl. Her eyes widened.

“Harry, it’s beautiful.”

Harry blushed, smiling and pulling Ginny into a tight hug. Ronnie felt her heart flutter in her chest. She remembered meeting Ginny for the first time last year, listening to her gush about her crush on Harry Potter and how she was certain he’d never like her back. But then again, a lot had changed in the past year.

The gift-opening continued around the circle. Ronnie was particularly proud of her gifts; she’d painted Ginny a picture of her and Harry that bore a striking resemblance to them. For Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, a bottle of oak wine recommended by Big Jim. For Harry, a Quidditch-themed calendar. She’d gotten both Fred and George a handful of gag gifts, including Muggle rubber chickens. Both of them beamed with pride.

Ronnie herself received a handful of gifts as well; her favorite being the framed photo of her and George, which Fred had gifted her. She was all too excited when George passed her a parcel from him. It was soft and lumpy, and she wondered if perhaps it was a blanket, since she’d mentioned in the past how much she loved the ones Mrs. Weasley made.

Tearing apart the paper, Ronnie found herself holding a hand-knitted dark-green sweater. She turned it over to find that the front of the sweater was stitched with a large cream ‘G.’ Smiling, Ronnie looked up towards George, who beamed at her.

“Mum wanted to make you your own sweater, with an R, but I thought it’d be even better for you to have one with a G. Since you like stealing my clothes so much.” He grinned.

Ronnie laughed, kissing him on the cheek. She pulled the sweater over her head, noticing immediately that it was several sizes too big for her, just like all of George’s clothes.

“Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it. I love you.”

George smiled. “I love you, too.”

-

The family spent the rest of the day eating, drinking, and visiting with each other. Bill, Charlie, and Fleur all made appearances, and Ronnie couldn’t remember the last time she had spent a holiday so happy and full of love. She ate until she couldn’t possibly eat anything else, and George was never far from her side, always sneaking kisses to her cheeks and reaching for her hand underneath the table.

She was expected back at Big Jim’s late Christmas evening. He had written her back, telling Ronnie that it was fine for her to stay away for Christmas day, but that she should come back afterwards both to visit with him and to give the Weasleys some time on their own. Ronnie agreed; the last thing she wanted to do was overstay her welcome, regardless of how many times George protested. It was one thing for Harry to stay, who had no other family of his own and had known the Weasleys for several years. It was another thing for George’s new girlfriend to crash on Ginny’s floor all break.

George pulled Ronnie outside that evening, spreading a blanket out on the grass. Despite it being December, the night sky was clear and full of stars. With her new G sweater, a handful of blankets, and George hugging her, Ronnie had no qualms about the freezing temperatures. As she laid next to him, her gaze fixed on the sky above, she felt an overwhelming wave of nostalgia.

“Brings you back, doesn’t it?” George asked.

“Can I tell you something?” Ronnie turned her face up to look at George.

“Of course.”

“The first time we went stargazing, back when I first came to Hogwarts, remember that?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Ronnie was thankful for the darkness. George couldn’t see how hard she was blushing.

“I had a really big crush on you.”

For a moment, there was silence. George burst out laughing, pulling Ronnie even closer and kissing her, his hands resting on her back.

“God, Oxley, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. And I love my sweater, I really do.”

“I love the prank supplies. They’re amazing.”

Ronnie smiled a bit to herself. George had been so excited about his gift from Ronnie, despite her getting Fred the exact same thing. She was thoroughly looking forward to giving him his real gift.

“I’m going to miss you for the rest of break,” Ronnie said, snuggling closer. “Will you come visit me and Big Jim?”

“Of course, darling. Anything for you.”

She smiled once more.

-

Later that evening, Ronnie found herself bundled up in coats, her trunk packed, standing next to the fireplace as the Weasley family bid her goodbye. Mrs. Weasley pulled her into another tight hug, asking her yet another time if she’d be able to stay, and making her promise to come visit soon. She shook hands with Mr. Weasley, hugged Fred, Ginny, and Harry, and waved goodbye to the rest.

George kissed her, his arms wrapped around her waist, keeping his lips on hers for as long as he could.

“I’ll miss you.”

“It won’t be long,” Ronnie said, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Your real gift is upstairs, on your bed.”

“What?”

But Ronnie only smiled, waving one last goodbye to the Weasley family before stepping into the fireplace and disappearing among the green flames. As she waited for the Hog’s Head to materialize, she thought fondly about the brand new Firebolt upstairs on George’s bed, wrapped in parchment and sealed with kisses, along with the note she’d hastily scribbled for him to find.

_To the boy who taught both me and the butterflies in my stomach how to fly. I expect more lessons with this one._


	33. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unwelcome reappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains elements that may be triggering to some readers including gun violence, mentions of suicide, and gore. Discretion is advised.

Big Jim had already fallen asleep when Ronnie arrived, brushing the soot off of her clothes and lugging her trunk up the stairs and back into her usual room. She flopped onto the bed, a cloud of dust billowing up around her, and closed her eyes, picturing George’s face when he finally unwrapped his gift.

She felt herself dozing off, the room spinning in and out of focus until she dropped off completely. She dreamt of George, the two of them flying around the Quidditch pitch on his new broom, her arms wrapped around his middle, her cheek pressed into his back. She turned her head to the side, savoring the view of the lake in the distance, when a figure caught her attention.

Squinting her eyes, Ronnie noticed the figure was another person, also riding a broom, moving quickly to catch up with her and George. She felt her stomach drop. Her grip around George’s middle tightened, and she squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. She reminded herself that he couldn’t hurt her, he wouldn’t hurt her. She was safe.

But she could feel his presence growing closer, and as she opened her eyes, Jesse slammed into her and George, knocking them off the broom and sending them plummeting to their deaths. Ronnie screamed as loud as she could before her world went black.

She bolted upright in bed, gasping for air, her hands gripping the sheets. She was still dressed, lying atop the blankets, her hair sticking up in every direction. Realizing at once that she was safe in the Hog’s Head, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She didn’t notice the figure standing at the end of her bed until she had laid back down. It wasn’t the looming darkness over her that frightened her, it was the ice-cold feeling that washed over her body, sending a chill down her spine. She opened her eyes, her gaze landing on him.

Even in the darkness, she could make out each of his features perfectly, from the way his hair dangled over his eyes to the shape of his chest underneath his t-shirt. But the most prominent feature was the gunshot wound: the gaping, bloody hole in his forehead, that caused Ronnie’s stomach to twist with nausea. She looked away.

“I thought I had gotten rid of you. What are you doing here?”

The figure opened his mouth, his voice just as chilling as it had been that afternoon in DADA. Ronnie forced herself not to wince. She kept her gaze on the ceiling above her, not wanting to look at him. Not wanting any more images of him stuck in her brain.

“What do you think I’m doing here?”

“I thought you’d gone away for good,” she said. “I’ve moved on.”

“Clearly, you haven’t,” Jesse replied, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. Ronnie drew in her legs, scooting towards the corner to put as much space between herself and him as possible.

“You’re not welcome here.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“I’ve told you, I’ve moved on.” Ronnie refused to look at him, though she could feel his eyes burning holes into her skin. She wanted to scream, to curse at him, to throw her fists through the hallucination, but she knew it was pointless. She’d only frighten Big Jim and wake up any other guests that may be staying at the inn.

“Should we talk about why I’m here?”

“No,” Ronnie replied. “I don’t want to talk to you at all. I want to go back to sleep.”

“If you wanted to go back to sleep, you’d go back to sleep,” Jesse said, laughing lowly. “Don’t pretend like I don’t know what’s going on, Veronica.”

“Nobody calls me that anymore,” she shot back. “You ruined it for me.”

“I think I ruined lots of things for you, wouldn’t you agree? My finest accomplishments.”

“You haven’t ruined anything else.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jesse reached out a hand, but Ronnie shirked away, refusing to let him touch her. She knew how he’d feel: cold, sharp, and uncomfortable. Her heart continued to beat heavily in her chest, her gaze still focused on anywhere but the boy sitting in front of her. “Then what about that Weasley kid?”

“What about him?” Ronnie narrowed her eyes, finally meeting Jesse’s. She ignored the twisting in her stomach as those brown irises stared back at her, the ones that had tormented her for so long. She bit her lip.

“I know how you are around him. You act like one wrong move and he’s going to fall to pieces. Like he’s made of glass.”

“I do not,” Ronnie replied, her voice bitter. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.

“Yes, you do. And you want to know how I know that? Because I see you, Veronica. I see you all the time. Every move you make, every word you utter, I’m right there with you. You know why I’m here. You called me here.”

“I didn’t.” She averted her gaze, hoping Jesse couldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes. She would not be weak in front of him.

“I see how you lay awake at night, watching him breathe, worried that if you fall asleep, something will happen to him. I see how you never drink too much when he’s near by, just in case. I know what you’re doing. The only one who can’t see it is you.”

“I’m not afraid,” Ronnie replied, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m not afraid, Jesse. I’m not. I wish you’d leave.”

“You are afraid. And you’re not afraid of me.”

“Is that so?” Ronnie raised her voice, her nails digging deeper into her skin. “Then why the fuck were you my Boggart? Why the fuck did you have to show up like that, when nobody here knew who you were? I’m scared of a lot of things, Jesse. It didn’t have to be you.”

“It didn’t have to be, but isn’t it so much better that it was? Because Veronica, my dear, if that Boggart had turned into your actual biggest fear, everyone would have been a lot more concerned, don’t you think?”

“You aren’t helping me. I don’t need you here. I’m doing fine without you, haven’t you seen? Haven’t you seen George and my friends? Can’t you just leave me alone?”

Jesse smiled, resting his hand gingerly on Ronnie’s knee. This time, she didn’t move away. She only sighed.

“You know I can’t, Veronica.”

“You’re getting worse,” she said. “You’re here now. Why are you getting worse?”

“You know why.”

“It’s been years, Jesse. Why now?” Ronnie buried her face in her hands. “Why now?”

He looked down at his hands, a guilty expression spreading across his face. Ronnie sighed heavily.

“Fine, it’s happening now. But can you tell me what to do? Please? I don’t want you here. Tell me what I have to do.”

Jesse looked up, his gaze meeting Ronnie’s. He smiled sadly, watching as her eyes widened.

“No.”

“Yes,” Jesse replied. “It’s the only way, Veronica. I won’t go away until you’ve paid your debts back. And you know how to do that.”

“No!” Tears streamed down Ronnie’s face. “I won’t do it! I won’t!”

“Then I’m here to stay,” Jesse shrugged. “And you’ll waste away trying to get rid of me. Because as long as you’re here, I won’t be far from your side. You want to get rid of me? You know what to do.”

He reached into his jacket, extracting that same silver revolver. He placed it in Ronnie’s hand, wrapping her fingers around the trigger before moving her hand up to her head, the barrel of the gun resting against her hair. She closed her eyes.

“You know what to do.”


	34. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie deals with unpleasant memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains elements that may be triggering to some readers (guns, mentions of suicide). Discretion is advised.

Ronnie didn’t remember falling asleep. Suddenly, she was dragged back into reality by a knocking on the door. The light pouring in through the dirty window indicated early afternoon, and Ronnie was thankful to find that Jesse was no longer in her room. She rubbed her eyes, trying to dispel the unpleasant thoughts from the night prior.

She knew she wasn’t doing well, not if Jesse was showing up again. The dreams had stopped when she’d finally told George about him, but she knew he was bound to come back. She knew until she fully faced what had happened, there was no getting rid of Jesse. But there had to be a different way. She couldn’t let it all go up in flames, not caring who would be hurt.

Ronnie pushed herself out of bed, striding across the room and wrenching open the door. Big Jim was standing in the hallway, a wide smile on his face. He immediately pulled Ronnie into a tight hug, his large arms crushing her body.

“There’s my girl!”

“Big Jim,” Ronnie said, wrapping her arms around his back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in so late.”

“I figured you were tired from Christmas, but you should probably get something in your stomach. It’s nearly two in the afternoon.”

“Oh, it is?” Ronnie couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in this late. “I’ll meet you down there.”

Big Jim offered one last smile as Ronnie closed the door, digging in her trunk for a fresh change of clothes. She moved into the bathroom, allowing the cold water of the shower to awaken her senses, and tried not to think about the night before. Perhaps it was a one-time thing. Perhaps she was just tired from Christmas, and missing George. It was only natural that Jesse would show up then, right?

She didn’t want to write to George about it, not until she was sure the dreams were back for good. And even then, was it really worth worrying him? He’d only stress over her, never leaving her side and always making sure she felt safe and protected. He didn’t understand that his presence wasn’t enough. Like Jesse had said, he wouldn’t go away until she’d paid back her debts. And only she would be able to do that.

Big Jim had fixed her a grilled cheese, which he laid out on the bar with a bag of crisps and a Butterbeer he’d specifically gotten from the Three Broomsticks. He had learned over time that his Butterbeer was not worth drinking, and had stopped carrying it altogether. But he still purchased it from his competitor from time to time, only for Ronnie.

“Thanks,” Ronnie said, sitting down and taking a bite out of her sandwich. “This is really good.”

“How was your Christmas?” Big Jim asked, wiping down a handful of clean glasses with a towel. “Get anything nice?”

“I got a new sweater,” Ronnie remarked. “From George. It’s my favorite present.”

“He's still treating you alright?” Big Jim said, narrowing his eyes. “After that Jesse prat, I’m not taking any chances.”

“No, he’s still treating me right,” Ronnie replied. She swallowed her sandwich. “But um, can I ask you something?”

“Alright?”

“I dreamt about Jesse again last night. And it felt more real. Like he was standing in my room and talking to me and touching me. That can’t be good, right?”

Big Jim bit his lip, an expression of concern written across his face. He sighed.

“It’s not good, but it’s not unexpected. He’s not going to disappear now that you’ve got George, Ronnie. You need help. I’ve been telling you that since you got here.”

“There’s nothing anyone can do,” Ronnie replied. “It’s easier for me to handle it, rather than trying to explain it to somebody else. Trust me.” She knew nobody else would understand. Even Big Jim didn’t understand all of it, nor Dumbledore, especially not George. She was the only one who knew the extent of her situation.

“Whatever you say, Ron. Fancy a game of chess?”

“Absolutely.”

Playing wizard chess with Big Jim was Ronnie’s favorite activity when she was staying at the Hog’s Head. They’d play all afternoon, stopping only to eat fish and chips for dinner, and then play another few rounds before Ronnie finally decided she was ready for bed. Trudging up the stairs, she locked her door, lit a candle, and collapsed into bed, praying that Jesse wouldn’t reappear.

-

She had gotten her wish. Jesse didn’t return to her dreams that night, or any night for the rest of break. She visited with George once or twice; he came to see her at the Hog’s Head. The first time he appeared in the old fireplace covered in ash, he nearly tackled Ronnie, his excitement over the new broom impossible to match. Ronnie had laughed, peppering his nose with kisses, thinking about how much he deserved it. He meant all the world to her. She would give him everything she could.

Jesse didn’t return until mid-February. Ronnie had spent nearly a month and a half without him, her thoughts never returning to that first night in the Hog’s Head. She hadn’t brought it up to George; she didn’t consider it worth talking about. But when she woke in the middle of the night one cold February evening, George fast asleep next to her, she knew something was wrong.

He was sitting at her desk, his legs crossed, his fingers messing with the trigger of the revolver. When Ronnie saw him, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers, and offered her a smile. He tilted the gun into the air, as if he was cheers-ing her with it.

“What the fuck,” Ronnie muttered. “You’ve been gone.”

“And now I’m back.”

“You can’t be back!” She lowered her voice, hoping not to wake George. “Look, he’s right here. You can go now! You aren’t needed here!”

“Veronica, I’ve made myself pretty clear, don’t you think? I’m not going away any time soon. I might for a little bit, but I’ll always come back.” He smirked.

“And what if I wake up George?”

“What if you do? I’m not afraid of him.”

Ronnie narrowed her eyes.

“You should be. He’s going to be the one to take you down, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh?” Jesse raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure of it? And how’s that?”

“Because he’s good,” Ronnie placed her hand on George’s back, feeling his chest rise and fall. He was real. Jesse was not. “He’s good, and he will help me.”

“No, he won’t. And you want to know how I know that?”

Ronnie rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“How?”

“Because that would require you to tell him. And it’s been, what, two years now? You’ve had a lot of time to say something.” His smile was creepy and cold.

“I’ll tell him.”

“You won’t. We both know this.”

At that moment, George began to stir. He rolled over, stretched his arms, and opened his eyes, jumping slightly at the image of Ronnie sitting up in bed, staring out into the darkness. He reached for her hand.

“Ronnie? You alright?”

She turned her head to face him, offering a light smile.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Bad dream.”

George peered into the darkness, but the room was completely empty. He kissed Ronnie, settling back down into bed.

“Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”


	35. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse's presence is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains elements that may be triggering to some readers (gun violence, attempted suicide, gore). Discretion is advised.

After that evening, Jesse followed Ronnie everywhere she went. Clearly, the break between Christmas and now had been some sort of fluke. He was always next to her; in class, in the middle of the night, Ronnie even caught him watching from the corner of the room when she and George made love. It made her stomach turn; that same, sick smile, that same dirty t-shirt, that same revolver always in his hand. She had gotten used to the gunshot wound by now. It was old news.

She had tried at first to ignore him, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. He was constantly whispering into her ear, pressing the revolver into her hand, and waking her up in the middle of the night. She was tired, she was losing weight, she was beginning to crumble under the pressure of this immense secret. She knew she needed to do something about it, but neither of the available options sounded good to her. She wanted to ignore him until he went away. But so far, that wasn’t proving to work.

George quickly began to notice that something was wrong. He repeatedly woke in the middle of the night to find Ronnie sitting up in bed, staring off into the darkness and whispering under her breath. The whispering was becoming all too common. She’d whisper in class, during meals, at Quidditch games. She was always whispering, but when George asked her about it, she pretended like she didn’t know what he was talking about.

Sitting in Charms one afternoon, exhausted from the perpetual lack of sleep, Ronnie found herself trying not to doze off. Jesse sat next to her, his chin resting in his hands, the revolver on the desk in front of him. Every once in a while, he would shoot a glance towards Ronnie, but she kept her gaze looking forward. She was so tired of acknowledging him.

They were scheduled to take an exam, and Ronnie hadn’t been able to study properly, not with Jesse following her every move. Each time she sat down in the library, he’d sit across from her and push the gun across the table. Each time she asked George to quiz her, Jesse would start whispering in her ears so that she couldn’t focus. She knew she was going to fail.

Staring down at the parchment in front of her, Ronnie struggled to figure out what the question was asking. She clutched a quill in her shaky hand, her eyes furiously reading and re-reading the question, the words refusing to make sense in her brain. She closed her eyes, her fingers moving to massage her temples.

“Shame. You used to be smart.” Jesse smiled, a hunger hidden beneath his irises as he watched Ronnie struggle to understand the test. He laughed under his breath. “What happened to you?”

“Stop,” Ronnie warned. “Not now.”

“No, I think now is a perfect time, don’t you?”

“I’m warning you,” Ronnie uttered. “You need to stop.”

“What have I been telling you for the past few months, Veronica, dear? I’m not going to stop.” He pushed the gun towards her once more.

Ronnie stared at it, the blood pounding in her ears. In one swift move, she grabbed the gun off the table and pointed it to her temple, tears streaming down her cheeks. She heard the rest of the class gasp, but she ignored them. Her focus was on Jesse and Jesse only.

“Like this?” She cried. “Is this what you want? Is this what you fucking want?”

Jesse didn’t say anything. He only smiled.

“I’ll fucking do it! I’ll do it, and then you be the one to explain to George, and to Ginny, and to everyone else why the fuck I blew my brains out in the middle of class? Huh? Do you want that?”

She shut her eyes, wincing as her finger found the trigger. She pulled.

Nothing happened. She pulled again, and nothing happened. 

Ronnie opened her eyes, only to find that Jesse had disappeared from her view. Instead, she was face-to-face with Professor Flitwick and the rest of her classmates, all of whom were staring at her with absolute horror. She looked around the room, her heart thumping in her chest.

“Ronnie,” Flitwick began, his voice quiet and nervous. “Ronnie, are you alright?”

Ronnie looked around the room in horror, the tears continuing to stream down her face. She moved to lower the gun from her head, only to realize that she wasn’t holding a gun. Her fingers were pointed up against her temple, her thumb bent like the trigger. She stared at her hand, the dots connecting rapidly.

“Oh, no,” she muttered, looking back up at Flitwick. “Oh, no, no.”

He smiled sadly at her, reaching his hand out to touch her shoulder. Ronnie flinched. She couldn’t do this, not in front of her entire class, her friends, her peers. She grabbed her bag off the ground, pushed herself out of her chair, and left the classroom, refusing to slow down until she was safely back in her dorm.

She threw her bag against the wall, letting out a scream, the tears continuing to flow. She pulled at her hair, buried her face in her hands, falling to the floor in a mess of fear and sadness. Her wails must have drawn quite the attention, because she soon heard a knocking at her door.

“Go away!” Ronnie shouted.

She heard a soft muttering from outside, and her door sprang open to reveal the twins, Ginny, and Ron. Ronnie stood up, drawing her wand out from her robes. She pointed it at the group.

“I told you to go away,” she muttered, her chest heaving. George stepped forward, ushering the rest of the siblings out of the room, his hand held up against Ronnie’s wand. He closed the door behind him.

“Ronnie, it’s okay,” he reached for her arm, allowing her to lower her wand. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” Ronnie shouted. She spun around, throwing her wand at the same wall her bag had hit. “Don’t you get it? It’s not okay!”

“Ronnie, you need to tell me what’s wrong.” George took a step towards her, but she backed away, her fingers wrapping around her hair once more to pull.

“It’s Jesse! It’s Jesse, George. He’s here, he’s always here. He won’t leave me alone!” She collapsed onto the floor. George bent down next to her.

“Ronnie, Jesse isn’t here! It’s okay! He’s not here, you’re safe, he’s not here.”

“He is here!” She turned to look at George, her eyes narrowing as she caught the sight of Jesse standing behind him, a sinister smile spread across his face, blood dripping from the gaping hole in his forehead. Ronnie lunged towards him, but George caught her and dragged her back to the ground.

“Ronnie! What the fuck are you doing? There’s nobody in here!”

“He’s right there! Look, look!” She pointed at Jesse, but she knew deep down that George couldn’t see him. She knew George would think she was going crazy. She wondered if perhaps she was.

“Ronnie, stop. It’s okay. Listen to me. We’re going to get through this. We can get you help! We can send him away from here. Do you understand?”

Ronnie shook her head, burying her face in her palms. She let out a gasping sob.

“Don’t you get it?” She cried. “He won’t go away. He won’t go away. It doesn’t matter what you do. He won’t leave me alone. He can’t leave me alone!”

George stared at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“What do you mean, Ronnie?” His voice was low, as if he already knew what she meant.

Ronnie lifted her head, her eyes meeting George’s, her face wet with tears. Her stomach twisted.

“I killed him.”


	36. It All Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie finally comes clean to George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains elements that may be triggering to some readers (discussion of murder, suicide, and violence). Discretion is advised.

The silence that ensued felt like it would swallow Ronnie whole. Her ears filled with buzzing, her stomach twisting with nausea as she watched the realization spread across George’s face. She couldn’t bear to look at him, couldn’t stand to see him scoot away from her, to see him run out the door like his life depended on it. But he didn’t move. He only sat there, his mouth open, his chest heaving, his eyes wide and focused on Ronnie.

“You what?” His voice was hoarse and low. Ronnie roughly wiped the tears from her face.

“I shot him.”

George shook his head, as if he was struggling to believe what Ronnie was telling him.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did. I shot him. That’s how I escaped. I shot him, I killed him, and I ran.”

“The Boggart...”

“It was real.” Ronnie muttered. “It was real. I shot him. I killed him with that same fucking revolver. I did it, George. I did it and I think that makes me a monster. Because Jesse, he won’t leave me alone. He won’t leave me alone, he wants me dead. And I think maybe that’s what I need to do.”

She stood up, but George grabbed her hand and pulled her down into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. Ronnie could tell that the weight of her words were still sitting heavily in the air, but George had still caught what she’d said. He knew what she meant, and he was not going to let it happen.

“Ronnie, listen to me.” His voice was slow and quiet. “He is dead. He can’t hurt you. He isn’t real. You can’t listen to what he’s telling you, okay?”

“George, you don’t —”

“Listen to me. Don’t make me yell. I don’t know what he’s saying to you. But he’s dead. It’s not real. We need to get you help, okay? Come with me.” He stood up, pulling Ronnie to her feet, keeping a firm grip on her hand. “Come with me.”

Ronnie didn’t protest. She didn’t want to give George any more reasons to hate her. She knew that things would never be the same after this. She knew that George would be afraid of her, just as she’d been afraid of herself for the past few years. Just as she’d laid awake, worried she’d harm George in her sleep. Just as she’d stayed sober, worried something would happen once she was drunk. She couldn’t have believed that she was capable of killing Jesse. But then, she’d done it. And she was afraid she might do it again.

George led her to the Hospital Wing, whispering something to Madam Pomfrey, before helping her into one of the empty beds. Again, Ronnie didn’t protest. Whether she was too tired, too mentally and physically exhausted to argue, or just wanted to do what George asked her, she didn’t know. Either way, she found herself lying in a hospital bed, her hand held tightly by George, as Madam Pomfrey asked her dozens of questions about her visions of Jesse.

The questioning lasted nearly an hour, before Madam Pomfrey administered some ink-blue potion that caused Ronnie to feel incredibly sleepy. She struggled to stay awake, afraid that George would leave her if she dropped out of consciousness, but she couldn’t fight against the strength of the potion. As her eyelids closed, she prayed that George could forgive her for what she had done.

The potion Madam Pomfrey had given her caused Ronnie to sleep the best she had in months. She wasn’t plagued with visions of Jesse, or anything for that matter. When she woke, the sky outside was pitch black, and she knew she had to have been sleeping for quite a long time.

Ronnie pushed herself into a seated position, reaching for her wand on the table next to her bed. She uttered an incantation, a burst of light emitting from the tip. Something at the end of her bed jerked awake, and Ronnie realized that George had fallen asleep in the chair next to her, the top half of his body folded over onto her legs. She quickly moved her wand.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t see you.”

George yawned, moving the chair closer to Ronnie and sitting back down. He took her hand in his own.

“It’s okay. How are you feeling?”

How was she feeling? Physically, she was feeling fine. She was feeling a little bit better after finally telling George and Madam Pomfrey about Jesse, but she wasn’t feeling good about her own relationship. She didn’t want to know what George thought about her now.

“I’m okay,” Ronnie answered. “I’m, I’m worried that you’re mad at me.”

George widened his eyes, his grip around Ronnie’s hand tightening. He leaned forward.

“Ronnie, no! I’m not mad at you at all, why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I killed Jesse, and he was my boyfriend, and you’re my boyfriend, and I just don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

George shook his head, pushing Ronnie over and climbing into the bed with her. He took her into his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Jesse was a horrible, god-awful abusive fucker, Ronnie. He got what was coming to him. You said it yourself. You thought he was going to kill you. Why would I hate you, or be afraid of you, when all you did was act in self-defense? Ronnie, I fucking love you. And I’m so unbelievably proud of you.”

Ronnie felt a tear roll down her cheek. She leaned her head back further into George. His presence next to her made her feel all the more secure.

“I’m so thankful for you,” Ronnie muttered. “Even if it doesn’t seem like it. You’ve saved me, George, you really have. I didn’t think it was possible to be loved after Jesse, especially not like this.”

George tightened his grip around you.

“I will love you forever, darling. I promise you, right now. No matter what happens, no matter who you kill, no matter who hurts you. From this day until eternity, I will love you with every fiber of my being. Because you, Ronnie, are everything. Everything.”

And he kissed her.


	37. Epilogue

Dear Jesse,

I wanted to thank you. For teaching me what love shouldn’t look like. For teaching me that I’m much stronger than I had thought. For teaching me that even at my worst, I am still worthy.

You don’t deserve to be mentioned in this story, you really don’t. But it’s important that you are. Because without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I’m getting married, Jesse. I’m getting married to the love of my life. He is everything to me. He saved me after you broke me. You’d hate him, and that makes me happy.

I don’t see you anymore. You don’t come into my dreams, you don’t come into my bedroom at night. I am no longer afraid of you. Because I don’t need to be. I have George, and he is everything.

My doctors suggested I write you this letter. I’m burning it as soon as I sign my name at the bottom. But I wanted to wish you goodbye. Because after the quill is lifted from this parchment, you are no longer part of me. And you will never be again.

I hope you rot in hell, Jesse. I hope for the rest of eternity, you’re forced to face what you became, and what became of you. You may call me a coward, but like I told you that day in DADA. It was me who won in the end. It will always be me who wins.

Signed,

~~Veronica~~  
Ronnie Oxley


End file.
